


His Father's Son

by Raine_Wynd



Series: Battle Cries [8]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Assumptions, Canon-Typical Violence, Chuck Lives, Crossover, Disclosure, F/M, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, Family, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Grief, Growing Up, Heartbreak, Hu Wei Lives, Immortals, Jaeger Pilots, Love, M/M, Maturity, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Novella, PTSD, Post-Operation Pitfall, Quickening, Quickening Tricks, Romance, Secrets, Sex, Slow Build, Swearing, Swords, Temporary Death, The Drift, Trust, Watchers, ex-military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 76,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck and Herc, and the road to finding balance when you're immortal and in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried ignoring them, but they got loud.
> 
> Fair warning: this is a fic where the focus is not solely on one pairing but on both, and how the Hansens handle disclosure to the people they care about. 
> 
> Partially beta read. If you see something where I messed up, please let me know; constructive criticism is welcome, as is general commentary. :-)

_October 2026_

Drawn by the surge of irritation and nerves he felt across their ghost drift, Chuck stepped into the quarters he shared with his father and then frowned as he saw the mess. It wasn’t like Herc to fuss over what he wore; clothes were strewn across Herc’s bed, and Herc was swearing like the ex-RAAF pilot he was. He stood in front of the jumble, dressed only in a pair of black low-cut briefs, and looked frustrated. His broadsword lay clear of the pile, within reach, but the feel of Chuck's immortality combined with their ghost drift made Herc step away from his weapon.

Chuck knew better than to take offense that his father had a moment of doubt that it was him and not another immortal. Someone who’d learned the hard way not to assume that a friendly immortal was always going to stay that way had trained them. Still, Chuck made sure that the door shut a little harder, on the off chance that his father was lost in his head somewhere.

Hearing the door shut, Herc glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t start,” he warned his son.

“Was going to just ask why you’re all worked up,” Chuck returned evenly. Nearly six years of piloting a jaeger together had left them with a permanent sense of each other’s emotions, a phenomenon the PPDC’s doctors had filed under ‘ghost drift’. Privately, Chuck hoped it would never fade; he liked knowing that he was that close to his father, especially since without it, Herc’s immortal signature was just like any other immortal’s.

Herc let out a careful breath before starting to put everything he’d pulled out of the closet away. He didn’t reply to Chuck’s question, and Chuck knew it was likely because his father wanted to choose his words. He’d learned pushing his father to answer would only result in an argument, so he pulled out and straddled the desk chair as he waited.

Finally, the pile on the bed was reduced to a pair of black slacks, a dark green button-down shirt, a black tie with a diamond pattern, black socks, and the black leather jacket Chuck remembered gifting his father with the first Christmas they’d piloted together. Herc’s sword, a fifteenth-century English broadsword with elegantly simple lines, went into the specially designed sheath in the leather jacket. Herc put on the socks, then the slacks, and hesitated.

“So who’s joining you for dinner?” Chuck asked, surmising his father was going on a date.

“I’m like a nervous teenager all over again,” Herc muttered. “You’d think I’ve never had dinner with anyone.” 

Chuck lifted an eyebrow. While Herc hadn’t been celibate since Angela had died in Scissure’s attack, he’d been both picky and discreet, nothing more than an occasional liaison with someone who could be trusted to keep her mouth shut and wasn’t looking for a fairy tale ending. Chuck had long suspected it was one of the LOCCENT techs in Sydney, but Herc had kept the details out of the Drift, and Chuck respected what little privacy he and his father shared when it came to that subject.

Chuck had his own brief liaisons, enough to solidify his knowledge that he preferred men. He’d taken his father’s cue to keep it private, feeling that the Hansen name had plenty of tabloid fodder thanks to his uncle and he didn’t need to add more. Seeing Herc fumble now with what to wear made Chuck realize just how long it had been either of them had been out to a meal with someone for reasons that weren’t connected to the PPDC.

“Has it been that long since you’ve been on a date?”

“Last one I had that wasn’t business was with your mother,” Herc said. “You spent the night at Scott’s so Angela and I could celebrate our anniversary.”

Chuck’s eyes widened as he did the mental math. “Twelve years. What about that date you went on with Stacker when we were stationed here when you were in Lucky Seven?”

“Wasn’t a date. That was two guys having a couple of beers.”

“Uncle Scott thought it was a date.”

“Because it would’ve been for him,” Herc said in a tone that warned Chuck not to continue talking about Scott. 

“So who is it? You know there was a long running bet that you and Dylan would hook up.” Dylan Carrodus had been the marshal of the Sydney Shatterdome before she’d taken the position of operations manager of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. In the wake of Operation Pitfall, Herc had promoted her to his deputy marshal. Pixie-like in stature and features, compassionate but practical, Dylan had earned a place in Chuck’s heart as the closest thing he’d had to a maternal figure during his teenage years. Dylan also had the position of being Herc’s Watcher, but she’d never made Herc feel like she was recording his history for some dusty tome somewhere. Chuck suspected she'd taken on his assignment as well, but he figured if he didn't ask, she wasn't bound to tell.

Herc shook his head, mouth quirking in a smile as he put on the dress shirt. “No. Made the mistake of mentioning to Grace that I’d like to meet someone who wasn’t into me for my position and, well, she wouldn’t take no for answer.”

Chuck blinked. He could’ve sworn there’d been sparks between the immortal head physician, Grace Chandel, and his father, but he could see, too, his father’s objection to getting involved with someone who reported to him. “Blind date?”

“Yeah,” Herc pulled on his jeans and tucked in his shirt. He eyed his son and copilot, looking as though he feared Chuck was going to react wrong. “You okay with this?”

“Been over a decade, old man. Can’t expect you to hold a torch for my mom forever,” Chuck said, finding that he meant the words. 

“You’re taking this awfully calmly," Herc noted.

“It’s been pointed out that I’m your son, not your chastity belt,” Chuck replied, his mouth twisting in a half-smile. “And if we were having this conversation two years ago, I’d have been a dick about it, since it would’ve meant your focus would’ve been split. We’re funded, the newest jaegers are on schedule, and everyone’s had time off to do other stuff.”

“You’re dangerous when you’re being reasonable,” Herc noted.

Chuck laughed. “Can’t a son want his father to be happy after everything?”

“Not when he can be an asshole if it has the potential to blow up what he’s got.”

Chuck acknowledged the remark with a shrug. “Don't have all the information to make that kind of judgment yet. I’m also, as you’ve sometimes ruthlessly pointed out, over the age of sixteen, capable of figuring out that my old man needs someone in his life other than Max and me.” Chuck let that sink in a moment, pleased to see the look of ‘when did you grow up’ he got, and shrugged in reply. He wasn’t about to say that coming so close to dying of radiation poisoning had made him realize that he’d had a second chance at a lot of different things. “So who’s got you all wound up?”

“Name’s E.J. Seiler, a financial analyst with the Asian Development Bank and former military intelligence. I’m not sure if it’s a man or a woman – Grace swears I’ll like the surprise.”

Armed with the information that Grace had set it up, Chuck considered. That meant that they’d gotten close enough to become friends, and maybe there’d been something…enough to make Grace want to see Herc happy. Satisfied with that, Chuck leaned back. “I’m betting female, if you two have become friends. You’ve never been interested in other guys, not like me,” he said, watching Herc struggle with tying his tie. Impatiently, Chuck rose and crossed the room. “Hold still, old man, let me. You’d think you haven’t tied a tie before.”

Giving up, Herc let his arms drop. “Just…don’t want to fuck this up,” he said, meeting his son’s gaze. “Everything feels twice as important now that the Breach is closed and we’re on track to be useful again.”

“Yeah, well,” Chuck drew the fabric into a Windsor knot like Herc had taught him, “weren’t you the one who told me important is relative?” He stepped back and eyed his handiwork, noting that there was stray dog hair on the shirt fabric.

Herc barked a laugh as Chuck retrieved the lint roller. “You know how I worry.”

“Yeah. Quit worrying over things that haven’t happened yet. You’re not planning on getting drunk and marrying this E.J. Seiler tonight, are you?”

“Hell no,” Herc shot back as Chuck applied the sticky tape to the dress shirt and started rolling off the stray dog hair. 

"You can't get anyone pregnant since you're immortal, so that means the only kid you'll have is me," Chuck pointed out. “Unless you adopt, and I don’t see you doing that in one date.”

Herc shook his head. “No.” He met Chuck’s gaze. “I don’t regret having you, but I’m not gonna age and kids ask a million questions.”

Not surprised by that answer, Chuck nodded acknowledgment. “So that leaves pulling stupid stunts like Uncle Scott did. You gonna do that tonight with this Sieler?”

“No. I may have shared brain space with that loser but I’m not him. You know that.”

“Then the only issue is whether you’re bringing them home,” Chuck pointed out reasonably, feeling strangely more adult than his father, “and I promised Raleigh we’d watch movies in his room tonight, so you won’t have to trip over Max, either.”

Herc met Chuck’s eyes. “Something I need to know about you and Raleigh?”

Chuck shrugged. “Not sure there’s anything to tell. We’re friends. Anything more….” He drew a breath and let it out, shrugging as he did so. “I’m just grateful that he doesn’t kick me out if I fall asleep during a movie in his room. He’s never been with a guy, and you know I’ve never had a real relationship.”

Herc studied him, the low hum of the ghost drift between them a fine current of emotion. “You going to push for more? You’re halfway there.”

Chuck half-smiled, not surprised by his father’s assessment; he was, after all, Herc minus the calming influence of a deep and abiding love. “Not in a hurry,” he admitted honestly. “Figure we both need time to be sure we’re who the other wants.”

Herc nodded once in understanding. “I’ll call you if I’m going to be out later than midnight,” he told Chuck. “If you don’t hear from me –”

“I’ll send out the search parties,” Chuck promised, aware that his father had gotten into fights with other immortals when he’d left the relative safety of the Shatterdome. The war against the kaiju hadn’t stopped the Game from continuing; Herc’s status as a jaeger pilot hadn’t prevented him from being targeted. Now the Breach was closed, Richie had warned them that immortal hunters would see them as having outlived their usefulness. “Now get out of here.”

Herc grinned at that, and slipped on his jacket.


	2. Chapter 2

Hong Kong at night, nearly two years post-Pitfall, had returned to the vibrant port city it had been before the Kaiju War. Construction was ongoing, even at night, to repair what had been destroyed. Seeing the rebuilding and the hope for the future was Herc’s tangible reward for all he’d sacrificed; it gave him incentive to make sure the Breach stayed closed. 

Though Herc was perfectly capable of driving himself, he’d negotiated a compromise with his security team. As marshal of the PPDC, he made the perfect target for any number of extremists, so the only time he was allowed to operate a vehicle was when he rode his motorcycle. Then, he was to wear gear designed to make him look like anyone riding the same motorcycle – and he had time and distance limits. Tonight, his driver was his usual closed-mouth escort, Trevor, for trips into the city, and Herc used the time to wonder what E.J. would think of him for having a driver and security.

Trevor brought Herc to a casual dining restaurant in an area known for its shopping and dining choices, and informed Herc he would wait nearby. Herc was then guided by the hostess to a private booth where a woman with long black hair and toffee-brown skin sat, reading a cellphone. Unnoticed, Herc took a moment to assess the stranger, and decided he liked the calm confidence she projected.

Herc thanked the hostess before turning to the woman in the booth. “E.J. Seiler?” he asked. “And before we continue, English or Cantonese?”

E.J. smiled, set the phone down, and rose slightly to shake his hand. “Yes, and English is fine; my Cantonese is a work in progress. You’re Marshal Hercules Hansen,” she returned, her accent the neutral tone of a professional newscaster. She had a wide forehead, prominent cheekbones, deep-set hazel eyes, a strong nose, full lips, and a square jaw. The long-sleeved blouse of a gauzy fabric she wore hid her figure, but her shoulders were broad, and he suspected she was not a short woman. Herc thought her angular features made her distinctively pretty. “Please, have a seat.” She smiled, and it softened her face considerably.

“Herc, please,” Herc said as he took the seat across from her.

“Evelyn James, if you must know,” she said, anticipating what he was going to ask. “Everyone calls me E.J. My parents couldn’t pick which one, so they gave me both.”

“What would’ve happened if you were born a boy?” Herc wondered.

“James Evelyn,” she replied with a grin. “Grace didn’t tell me she was sending you until five minutes ago. She also told me that we don’t get to pick from a menu tonight – it’s all been prearranged.”

“She told me that too. Do you have allergies?”

“Only to surprises,” E.J. admitted as the server brought them a pot of tea and served them two cups, warning that it was hot.

Herc laughed. “Guess this is Grace’s way of reminding us that it could be fun?”

“I guess,” E.J. said with a smile. “She knows I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

“A fan?” Herc asked carefully. He didn’t mind having dinner with a fan, but he’d been hoping for someone different.

E.J. shook her head. “Not for the reason you think. I’ve always admired people who were willing to risk everything for something they believed in.”

“Did what I felt I had to do,” Herc returned simply. “I imagine you feel strongly about believing in a cause; you wouldn’t have been military intelligence.”

E.J. toasted him with her teacup as a tiny platter containing two cigarillo-sized lumpia rolls was brought out.

The server looked to them. “Lumpia with pork,” she announced in accented English, setting a red sauce down on the table. “Sweet and sour sauce.” 

Herc turned to her. “Are you allowed to tell us what’s for our entrée?” he asked her in Cantonese.

She flashed a smile. “Sorry, Marshal, but no,” she replied in the same language. “But I can tell you no seafood, no nuts, and no chilies.”

Looking as though she hadn’t understood a word but recognized the language, E.J. looked at Herc, surprised. “I didn’t know you were fluent in Cantonese.”

Herc shrugged. “Figured I ought to learn if I’m going to be here for the foreseeable future. Chinese government’s agreed to let us stay here as long as we’re willing to help them with search and rescue during typhoon season. My Mandarin’s for shit, but I’m fluent in Japanese and Russian. All I know in French are all the curses involving LOCCENT parts.”

E.J. laughed. “I used to know Swahili. Arabic and Mandarin are my two fluent languages other than English. Never picked up Russian.”

“So how long have you been in Hong Kong?”

“Three years. My contract with the Asian Development Bank is for six years; I was considering – if the Kaiju War kept on like it was – fleeing to Egypt. My mom retired in Cairo and she’s been begging me to come live with her.”

“And now?”

E.J.’s lips curved. “Now, I’ll probably stay. I like Hong Kong; I’ve lived enough places elsewhere that the only other place I might choose is Sydney.” She reached for one of the Filipino eggrolls and took a bite. The roll was perfectly crunchy. 

“So how do you know Grace Chandel?” Herc wondered.

“I volunteer at the clinic you've graciously lent your medical staff to. Thought I was just doing my civic duty; didn't expect to make a friend.” E.J. shook her head. “That woman moves mountains when she wants to. I didn't think the government would've allowed the clinic to continue past the first six weeks after the Breach was closed.”

Herc shrugged. “It allows them to say they are supporting an international aid clinic while controlling how many exist in the city.”

“You could have said no to letting your medical staff volunteer.”

“For what end? To say that they can only treat PPDC personnel even on their days off?”

“Others have made similar comments.”

Herc leaned forward. “If I’d listened to everyone who made a comment about what I should or shouldn’t do, we’d still be fighting kaiju. I do what I think is right, and sometimes, that’s meant putting the greater good above my personal feelings. Letting my staff volunteer in a public clinic one day a week is a case where the greater good and my personal feelings about access to care happen to coincide. Why do you volunteer?”

“Because it gives me a reason to look beyond spreadsheets and statistics to see the people who could really benefit from the money,” E.J. replied without hesitation. “My boss thinks I’m a little crazy; worries I might get kaiju blue exposure or some virus that’s hard to treat. I tell him I’m more likely to get respiratory disease from breathing in so much recycled air in our building.”

“Probably.” Herc grinned and reached for the lumpia. He took a bite, and the taste of the roll was a blend of pork and other savory ingredients with a little bit of sweet Herc couldn’t identify, but remembered from the last time he’d been in Manila. He was suddenly aware that he’d last eaten at breakfast, and was grateful there had only been two rolls on the platter; he didn't want to look uncouth. 

The attentive server cleared the platter and brought out two plates. A pork chop, sliced for easy eating with chopsticks, was elegantly presented with Japanese-style noodles, mixed vegetables, and a sauce. The combination smelled heavenly.

“Oh wow,” E.J. exclaimed, taking a bite. “This is not what I was expecting. I’d heard this was a fusion restaurant, but I wasn’t sure how good it was here.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had this,” Herc said. He took an experimental bite, expertly wielding his chopsticks after so many years of practice. “Mm.”

Once the initial bites were consumed, Herc steered the conversation towards getting to know each other better. “So now that we know we’re both multilingual, may I ask – where did you grow up?”

“Mostly in a suburb of Seattle,” E.J. replied, “but I spent summers traveling with my mom. She was a pediatric nurse, and thought that as long as I was immunized, I would be able to help her with the kids she treated when she was with Doctors without Borders.”

“Did you ever get to a point where you said no?”

“When I got to my sophomore year of high school, yeah,” E.J. admitted. “By then, I knew it was her passion and not mine, but volunteering to help the less fortunate has stuck with me. My mom arranged for me to stay with friends, who became second parents to me.”

“And you let her go,” Herc finished quietly.

E.J. nodded, not looking like she regretted the decision. “My dad was Special Forces, and they wouldn’t let me go where he was stationed, so I got very good at Skyping them in whatever time zone they were in. Their marriage broke up because they couldn't be together, but they loved each other and they loved me. The Army recruiter told me I was a perfect match for intelligence with the way I’d grown up.” She laughed lightly. “I got out in May 2011 after sixteen years; I couldn’t stand the way things were going. I’ve been with the Asian Development Bank ever since. Managed to run into my dad on one of my operations; they’re going to have to retire him because he’s never getting out willingly.”

Herc grinned at that. “Know the type. I was a chopper pilot with the Royal Australian Air Force; they agreed to let the PPDC borrow me permanently in exchange for dropping the charges against me.”

E.J. looked startled. “What charges?”

“I stole a helicopter and saved my son and a handful of his classmates before the nuke hit Sydney. Would’ve turned back and saved more if I could’ve. Stacker Pentecost was heading up the UN response to Scissure; he’s the one who directed me to a safe zone where I could land. The RAAF wanted to charge me for the theft; Stacker convinced them otherwise.”

E.J. stared for a moment, astonished. “All I ever heard was that you heroically saved some schoolchildren. No one ever said you didn’t have permission!”

Herc chuckled softly. “Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well if the public knew. Especially since I did it for my son more than anyone else.”

E.J. shook her head. “People figured that part out, you know.”

Herc lifted one shoulder. “Not going to ever apologize for it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” E.J. said fiercely. “One of my missions was to protect a little girl; I fell in love with her so hard, I wanted to take her home with me. I couldn’t; all I could do was make sure her father stayed alive.”

“Why do I get the impression you didn’t sit in some remote office and figure out patterns?”

E.J. grinned wolfishly. “Because you’d be right. I can’t tell you the details, but the wound that I got my last mission is the one that made me get out and into something a little safer.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “My left arm from the elbow down is more metal than bone. Some days are better than others.”

“Understood,” Herc said. “Broke my shoulder my last time out in my jaeger.”

“Heard,” E.J. said with a nod. “How’d it heal?”

“Like it never was,” Herc said. He’d hated that the EMP blast had slowed his immortal healing ability to something closer to what it would be if he’d been mortal; he’d forgotten what it felt like to feel that kind of long-term pain.

E.J. smiled. “So what does the marshal of the PPDC do in his free time, now that there aren’t kaiju to fight?” she asked.

“There’s this grand list of books all of the rangers put together on the server – the Gages started it. It’s the ‘desert island book list’ – meaning, if you could only bring five books with you to a desert island, what books would you bring or load onto a solar-powered tablet?” Herc smiled. “Over the years, it’s gotten pretty elaborate as people added books in every language we knew. Stacker and I used to talk about the books we’d read together as a counterpoint to all the politics we had to discuss. Chuck and I have gotten into heated arguments over certain plots, but,” Herc shrugged ruefully, “he’s me, without some filters.”

E.J. studied Herc a moment as she took a bite of her dinner. “I always wondered how difficult it was to balance being a parent with being half of a successful jaeger pilot team. Were you harder on him than if he’d been a friend you were piloting with?”

“Sometimes,” Herc admitted. “Sometimes it was Chuck being hard on me because he thought we could’ve fought cleaner or better, and he knew people thought I was a horrible father for letting him be a pilot since he was sixteen. He didn’t want anyone saying we weren’t the best.” 

“So you pressured each other,” E.J. marveled. Her eyes narrowed. “And you let him say some things you couldn’t because he’d get away with it due to his age.”

Herc grinned. “Sometimes. Contrary to popular belief, I did rein him more often than not. Do you have any children?”

E.J. shook her head. “No. I couldn’t justify the work I was doing and a child, so I opted out.” She shrugged easily. “I’m forty-six now, so it feels like the time to have done it was at least a decade ago.” She paused and looked across the table. “Would you have more if you could?”

Herc shook his head. “Raise another child in the public eye? Once was enough.” He didn’t disclose that it was a miracle that Chuck was his; immortals generally couldn’t sire children, even if they hadn’t yet had their first death. 

E.J. leaned back. “Hadn’t considered that aspect of it for you. Some people do.”

“I got lucky once,” Herc demurred. “Not interested in seeing if the dice fall twice the same way.”

E.J. smiled. “Ah, I see. So, you read a lot? Have you read _The Star Thief_?”

“If it came out in the last two years, then no. Been a little busy.”

“Ah, well, then I’d be happy to loan it to you if you like murder mysteries with a little sci-fi thrown in,” E.J. said. 

“Maybe?” Herc said cautiously. “If it involves aliens from another world, I’ve had my fill in real life.”

E.J. smiled. “Okay then, scratch that one,” she said, and launched into a discussion about books that lasted them through dessert.

Much to Herc’s surprise, he found himself reluctant to leave her company. “Tell me how to reach you,” he said after the server insisted that the dinner had been prepaid. “I’d like to see you again, E.J.”

“I’d love to do that,” she said, her lips curving, as she dug into her purse. She fished out a business card, which she then handed to Herc. 

“I’ll call you,” Herc promised, pocketing the card as he used his phone to notify the PPDC driver that he was ready to go. “Is there anywhere I could drop you off? My driver’s just outside.”

E.J. shook her head. “The train is still running this time of night, but thank you.”


	3. Chapter 3

_You’re happy,_ Chuck’s text came as Herc settled into the town car for the drive back. _You like her?_

 _Yes, she was pretty, fluent in Arabic, and well-read,_ Herc texted back. Another man might’ve been self-conscious about discussing his date with his son, but that man hadn’t piloted a jaeger with said child, hadn’t had to face the danger of random memories in a Drift. Even though it wasn’t likely they’d Drift again outside of a simulator, Herc knew the potential for it was there. He knew, too, that not telling Chuck was worse than disclosure; Chuck hated being denied information. _And how the hell did you know it was a she?_

_Grilled Grace after you left._

Herc chuckled, not surprised. He’d have done the same. _Had a feeling you’d do that,_ he texted back.

_Not gonna say I’m sorry. E.J. sounds interesting. Why aren’t you with her now?_

_First date, didn't feel right to push,_ Herc texted back. _And no, it’s not because I promised you I’d be home._

_Oh. Raleigh says if you want to join us, we moved to the media room; the whole gang’s here watching movies. Tendo brought the beer._

_See you in a few,_ Herc texted back. _Save me a pint._

He got an emoticon of a beer glass in reply and grinned.

The ‘whole gang’ turned out to be the senior staff of the PPDC. Present were Mako, Raleigh, Chuck, and Hu Wei as well as Tendo and his wife, Alison; Newt and Hermann with their new lab assistant, Kazuho Takeda, who’d been charged with riding herd on any further attempts at Drifting with kaiju parts. Also in attendance were Dylan and Grace; Richie Ryan, who now headed up jaeger crew operations with the head jaeger equipment chief, Eliot ‘Eli’ Davies; and the head of the ‘dome’s psychiatric department, a British woman of Chinese descent named Victoria P’Eng. The only senior staffer not present was the head of security, Jeremy Livojević, who usually oversaw the graveyard shift on Fridays. Also not present was Ryan Lima, the new operations manager; they’d all learned he didn’t like to watch movies in a group. 

Another staffer not present was Lily Aksakova, who served as the executive assistant to Herc, Dylan, and Ryan. She lived off base and was clear that she did not socialize with her bosses or their coworkers except as business dictated; no one begrudged her this delineation. The new jaeger pilots, who all had been issued permanent quarters in the ‘dome, had en masse decided that the senior staff had earned their group status, and had declined to join them except at official events and mealtimes.

The media room was set up with a U-shaped sectional sofa facing a large, wall-mounted flat-screen TV hooked up to a media-streaming device. A gaming console with controllers sat on the shelf below the TV; state-of-the-art speakers had been set up in the walls and ceiling of the specially designed room. A glass-topped coffee table sat in the center of the room. The sofa could seat twelve; portable floor cushions added additional seating.

Herc discovered they were watching a well-known series of action-adventure films. Judging from the way people were reacting, some had seen them multiple times. At Herc's appearance, the immortals in the room focused themselves on him, warned by the distinct mental signature that marked him as one of them. Chuck motioned him over; Mako made room for him by putting Raleigh’s legs in her lap.

Raleigh stirred slightly; Mako patted his face and he went back to sleep.

“He okay?” Herc asked as he took the beer Tendo handed him and took a sip.

“Beer makes him sleepy,” Mako said with a smile. “Dr. P’Eng said he could have one.”

“Only one,” Dr. P’Eng reminded them, flashing a grin. She was a decade older than Herc, and often made him think she was someone’s grandmother. “If I’d known it would affect him like that, I’d have said half a beer.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Chuck answered on Raleigh’s behalf. “Now come on, some of us want to see how this ends even if we’ve seen it before.”

From the looks of it, the movie was already three-quarters over when Newt hit the play button. Herc enjoyed it nonetheless; cheering on the final battle in a group of like-minded people made it worth seeing again. After the movie ended, the group started breaking up. Tendo and Alison had a small child at home; they were the only ones in the group living off base in the city, since Alison didn’t want to raise their daughter in a Shatterdome. The rest of the group lived in the ‘dome. Kazuho steered the two scientists, already squabbling about the sequence of events in the movie, to their quarters; Herc made a mental note to check to make sure her salary was sufficient for the herding she had to do. Dylan, Maria, Victoria, and Eli headed out as a group, and Herc knew he wasn’t alone in noticing how Eli was flirting with Maria. Once the majority had left, Hu Wei headed out, his hands expertly wielding his wheelchair. Hu looked amused, as though he knew Eli was going to get turned down.

That left Chuck, Mako, Raleigh, Richie, and Grace.

“Did you enjoy your date?” Grace asked Herc before she left.

“I did; thanks for setting everything up,” he told her.

She smiled. “My pleasure.” She hugged him briefly before departing, and Herc found himself once again grateful for her calm demeanor and easy friendship.

Richie had crouched down in front of where Raleigh lay sleeping, his head cradled in Chuck’s lap, his feet in Mako’s. “Chuck, if you wake him up, he’s going to hit you,” Richie was saying. “Let Mako do it.”

Chuck looked at Richie mulishly, looking as though he wanted to argue the point. Herc quickly interceded. “Chuck, it’s not about trust. If he didn’t trust you, he wouldn’t be lying on you now.”

Chuck sighed. “Fine.”

Mako leaned over and tickled Raleigh’s feet. Without opening his eyes, Raleigh made a face, said, “Yancy, quit it,” and went back to sleep.

Chuck stared at the redheaded immortal. “How’d you know?”

“Alcohol plus insomnia equals ‘God only knows where your brain is at,’” Richie said, sounding like the voice of experience. “Gonna have to either leave him here or take him back to his quarters.”

“Carry him,” Chuck decided. “If he wakes up here, he’ll hate us all in the morning. Dad?”

“Fireman’s carry is easiest,” Herc said, aware that any of them could easily lift Raleigh’s weight, but it was a maneuver best done with at least two people. “I’ll get the doors. Mako, will you grab Max’s leash and make sure he doesn’t get in the way?”

“Yes, sir,” Mako said, and eased herself off the sofa. Max had fallen asleep, but he was well trained, and responded instantly to the tug on his leash.

With Richie’s help, Chuck lifted Raleigh to the proper carrying position. Chuck grimaced as he felt Raleigh’s weight. Raleigh was solid muscle, with very little body fat, even after nearly two years of regular meals. Somehow, Chuck had the impression that Raleigh should be lighter, given how quick the American was in a fight, and it always took Chuck by surprise that Raleigh wasn’t.

It didn’t take them long to reach Raleigh’s quarters. Mako undid the lock, and Chuck eased Raleigh into the bed. Raleigh hadn’t woken the entire trip, and upon feeling the mattress, apparently took this to mean he was safe, and fell into a deeper slumber.

“Thanks for the help,” Chuck said awkwardly as they stood outside Raleigh’s room.

Mako nodded, handed Max’s leash over to Herc, and bowed briefly. “Good night.” She stepped into her quarters, which were across the hall from Raleigh’s.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning,” Richie said. His quarters were in the crew section, closer to the jaeger launch bays. “Unless you guys need something from me tonight.”

Herc shook his head. Tomorrow was Saturday; they’d returned to a normal workweek in the wake of the closure of the Breach. “Nothing I can think of. Chuck?”

Chuck shook his head. “No, I’ll see you in the kwoon tomorrow.”

Richie grinned and turned in the direction of his quarters. The Hansens had the quarters at the end of the hall. Herc had made noises about moving to his own space since he was now the marshal, but Chuck didn’t want him to go just yet. Herc suspected it was a case of his son not ready to move from the nest; if their respective relationships grew into something more serious, Herc knew Chuck would change his mind.

Chuck waited until they were inside their quarters before speaking. “So are you going to call E.J. for a second date?” he asked as he stripped off his shirt and tossed into the laundry hamper.

“Probably,” Herc said as he, too, changed for bed. “Don’t want to be too eager. You looked like you wanted to argue with Richie, again, for being right.”

“Feels like I should know this shit about Raleigh already after all this time,” Chuck muttered. “Didn’t know Dr. P’Eng had him on anti-anxiety meds to help him with his PTSD.”

“Didn’t Raleigh tell you?”

“Only that he was taking stuff; I saw the pills on his nightstand.” Chuck heaved a sigh. “Not like I know what those drug names mean or had time to write them down to look ‘em later; just figured it was stuff to help him not wander the halls at 0200 all the time. Wasn’t expecting him to think Mako was his brother.”

“As close as their Drift was, she probably feels like a sibling,” Herc pointed out. “And I know Raleigh has a sister out there somewhere still.”

“Jazmine,” Chuck confirmed. “He has a picture of them as kids. He said he lost track of her after he left the program; she was going to college in Juneau on a scholarship the last he knew.” Chuck looked at his father. “I just…”

“Want Raleigh to be something he’s not?” Herc guessed, looking at his son pointedly.

“Not that. Well, not exactly. I’d like to get to the point where I understand when he’s mixed up who he’s with and don’t have to rely on other people to get it for me.”

“Not gonna happen overnight, son. Might not ever happen. He was still connected to his brother when he died.”

Chuck shuddered. “Stacker knocked me out as he triggered the escape pod release. Wanted me to not fight the harness.”

Herc nodded; they’d been over this fact before. “So you know what it could be.”

“Yeah. I just –” Chuck smiled ruefully. “Get all tangled on wanting to fix it for him.”

“You know that’s not possible,” Herc said sharply.

“I know,” Chuck retorted, just as sharp. “Doesn’t stop me from wishing. You know how good I am at that.”

Herc barked a laugh. “Yeah, and how many times have I told you how that gets you nowhere? A million.”

Chuck rolled his eyes but said nothing more. 

A water leak, post-Pitfall, had necessitated the Hansens vacating the room they’d initially been given and moving across the hall, to the more luxurious ‘permanent occupant’ quarters, which had an upgraded bathroom and more living space, and two civilian-style twin-size beds. The beds were set in an L-shape along two walls with a shared nightstand between them. The bathroom had two shower stalls, two sinks, and two toilets. They had just enough space to reach out and touch the other person, but that was it.

Used to the ballet of their evening routine, neither man thought much about it. An outsider might be scandalized that they were nude at the same time. Herc had long thought that if a father couldn’t be nude with his son, then they hadn’t tried to bathe a squirming toddler intent on splashing everything. As jaeger pilots, a lack of modesty was a necessary requirement; between the Drift and the circuitry suits, pilots knew each other as well as themselves. Herc took comfort in the routine now, and wondered if he’d have to explain it to E.J.

Clean and in the loose boxer shorts he preferred to wear to bed, Herc checked on their dog, who had been trained to use a litter box since they couldn’t always get him outside in a timely fashion. They’d given up on piddle pads when they realized the length of their engagements with the kaiju sometimes meant they were gone more than the pads were designed to hold. Max woofed softly; the bulldog was starting to show signs of age, and Herc hoped he’d outlast the average lifespan of his breed. The litter box needed cleaning, and a special trashcan had been set up beside it for this purpose, which Herc utilized now. Cleaning complete, Herc washed his hands in time to see Chuck step out of the shower. “Was there anything you wanted to do tomorrow?”

Chuck dried himself off and shook his head. “Not really. Mako was talking about shopping, but I don’t know if I’m up for that insanity. Richie said he might have a friend stopping by.”

“Richie’s friends usually are immortal,” Herc noted. “Did he say who?”

“Just that I wasn’t going to get introduced to her if he could help it.” Chuck shook his head. “I get the impression sometimes that all the immortal women he knows are trouble in some fashion.”

“Except Grace,” Herc pointed out, exiting the bathroom but leaving the door open. 

“Except Grace,” Chuck agreed as he stepped out a moment later, dressed in the Looney Tunes sleep pants Herc remembered gifting him with for his birthday when Chuck was seventeen and had finally stopped growing. It had been a bit of a dig at Chuck’s then constant ‘but I’m not a kid anymore, I’m a jaeger pilot, stop treating me like a kid with kid stuff,’ but Chuck claimed they’d only gotten softer and more comfortable over time. 

“Maybe. You gonna text E.J. before bed or what, old man?”

“Sure,” Herc agreed readily. “And then we’ll start in on when you’re going to tell Raleigh you’re halfway in love with him.”

“Don’t. He won’t like it,” Chuck snapped. 

“Then back off about my love life,” Herc retorted evenly. “And I won’t give in to the urge to poke needlessly into yours.”

Chuck glared at him, but Herc knew he had to nip this in the bud. His son was very good at accepting things in the moment, but terrible at nitpicking later. 

“Fine,” Chuck said. “But I don’t want to be the one explaining why her attempt at matchmaking failed.”

Herc rolled his eyes. “If it fails, that’s my explanation to give, not yours. Have I ever not followed through on something I want?”

Chuck sighed. “Only if you’ve been ordered not to and sometimes not even then.”

Herc looked at his son, who returned the gaze a moment before holding up his hands. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Just – you were so nervous earlier and –”

“And I’m not now,” Herc finished. “Now go to sleep and let me do what I was going to do before you started fussing.”

Chuck shot him a look, which Herc ignored in favor of going to his slacks and fishing out E.J.’s card. Pointedly, he turned his back to his son, and set up a text to E.J. that would be sent the following morning, out of courtesy to the fact that it was now past midnight.

_I’m free next Friday. Want to see a movie and have drinks after?_

Pleased, Herc set his phone to ‘Do not disturb’ and put it on the nightstand next to his bed.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Herc checked his phone and found a reply text from E.J., which read:

_Sure. Let me know where/when to meet you._

_The AMC multiplex, 6:30 pm. Pick a movie and we’ll talk about it afterwards,_ Herc texted back.

_I have to check my schedule; I may have a meeting. Will confirm by Wednesday, E.J. wrote. Who the fuck books meetings on Friday afternoons?_

_People who don’t date_ , Herc typed back, laughing.

 _Obviously_ , E.J. wrote, and added an emoticon that stressed the word. _Good hearing from you._

 _Thanks for not ignoring me,_ Herc wrote back.

 _I always reply unless I’ve a gun to my head_ , E.J. said. _And even then I might still, just so I can ask for help._

Herc stared at that a moment before replying with, _Good to know_. He had the sneaking suspicion that E.J. might have actual experience with that.

He got a smiley face in reply. Tucking his phone into his pocket, Herc went to join his son and the crew for breakfast.

The scientists tended to stick to their labs, even on the weekends, so Herc wasn’t surprised to see them absent from the mess hall. The medical staff was busy with the walk-in clinic in the city that Grace had volunteered them to, so they’d been up and gone already. Eli firmly believed that since the work on the new jaegers was progressing according to schedule, he had no need to be up with the sun on a weekend. Ryan usually traded weekends with Dylan, making sure that one of them was on duty in case of emergencies; this was his weekend off, and he made a practice to not be near the ‘dome for as much as time as possible when it was his time off, starting with breakfast.

Richie was usually up at the same time as everyone else, regardless of what day it was. Hu had therapy sessions on Saturdays at the city's medical center; everyone had learned that he was acerbic if he was woken before his alarm, so the only person who checked to make sure he was awake was Mako. He also preferred lunch over breakfast on his therapy days. That left Chuck, Raleigh, and Mako. Raleigh had proven to be the one who was most energetic in the morning, regardless of how much sleep he'd gotten; he was usually disgustingly cheerful, much to Chuck’s annoyance, who only got that excited if it involved jaegers. Herc nodded a greeting to the new jaeger teams, who’d learned that he got irritated if they stopped eating to salute him, and got nods and waves in return. He’d always thought that protocol and respect for his rank had a time and place; weekend breakfast when it was just them and not the world watching was a time for a little less formality.

To save on costs, Herc had reduced the weekend mess hall staff to two locally based cooks, who’d gotten to know them all well as a result. That meant that breakfast had started to lean heavily on Japanese and Chinese style fare, with substitutions for the ongoing rice shortage and lack of seafood. Leek and potato-style miso soup had become common, as had local eggs and Chinese-style pork sausage.

“Good morning, Marshal,” the head cook greeted. “Pork, eggs, and potatoes this morning? Or would you like miso soup instead of potatoes?”

“Pork and the soup, please,” Herc decided. He didn’t have the excuse of piloting a jaeger to burn through calories. Even if he’d survive a heart attack from the cholesterol intake of eating eggs everyday, Herc had no desire to die in a sword fight from lack of paying attention to his diet.

“Of course, Marshal,” the head cook said, dishing out what he’d requested and setting it on his tray. “Your son said he’d get your coffee.”

Herc nodded, not surprised by the gesture. They’d learned over the years that Herc was likely to get pulled away by someone before he got to his coffee; having Chuck get it meant that Herc might actually get a sip of it before it got cold.

Herc made his way to the table where Chuck and Raleigh sat next to each other, taking the seat on Chuck’s left. From the looks of it, Raleigh was doing his now-customary slow intake; thanks to the five years he’d spent outside of the PPDC, he’d suffered malnutrition, and had been ordered not to wolf down his food. Chuck had already consumed his breakfast and was starting in on a protein shake he claimed was ‘dessert’; Herc knew it was Chuck’s way of making sure he could skip lunch. Mako sat opposite Raleigh, looking deeply engrossed as she stared at her tablet. Every so often, Raleigh would reach across and tap her right hand, and she’d take a bite of her meal or a sip of tea.

Herc bit back a smile, remembering how that habit had once frustrated Stacker to the point of venting to Herc about it.

_“Would you rather have her wolf down everything and get a stomachache?” he’d asked Stacker then._

_“No, of course not. Just want her to respect the food she’s eating.”_

_“It’s her breakfast. Give her time to wake up and then you can preach about respect.”_

Clearly, Stacker had chosen his battleground, and breakfast wasn’t it. It made Herc miss his best friend; Stacker had made getting through some of the tougher times in his life easier, but that comfort wasn’t his to have any longer. Pushing the grief aside, Herc focused on sitting down across from his son.

Raleigh looked up and smiled. “Good morning, sir,” he said, nearly in chorus with his copilot.

Chuck passed over the thermal tumbler of coffee. “Morning, old man.”

“Good morning to you too. Have you seen Richie?”

“Wolfed down two plates and said he needed some pastries,” Raleigh said. “Told him to bring back some.” Raleigh shook his head. “If he hadn’t told me he’s thirty, I’d have sworn he was nineteen at the oldest.”

Herc resisted the urge to say otherwise. “Yeah, he lucked out in the genes category. You want to spar with us after breakfast?”

Raleigh shook his head. “Promised Mako we’d go shopping for tea. She’s stuck on a blend her father made for her and can’t remember if it’s dragonwell blended with black or something else.”

“It’s custom,” Herc told Raleigh, who nudged Mako. “Should still be a supply of it somewhere around here.”

Mako blinked. “Custom? That means it’s from England.”

“Harvey and Sons,” Herc said. “Might want to call them up and see if they have it on record so you can order it again. Stacks wouldn’t drink anything else unless he had to.”

“Then it’s in the supplies pantry,” Mako said, as if she’d missed something obvious. “Thank you, Marshal.”

“You’re welcome,” Herc said. “Now since he’s not here to fuss at you for reading while eating breakfast, I feel compelled to remind you that your soup is getting cold.”

That got Mako to smile briefly. “You were always defending me to him for it.”

“Don’t know many people who want to discuss the things he did over breakfast,” Herc noted. “He never quite understood why not.”

Mako ducked her head to hide her grief before answering. “I always wanted him to slow down and let the morning come. He said the morning comes only if you make a conscious effort to greet it.”

Herc smiled and nodded. “Yeah, but as I told him, if you have the time, you should savor it. Never know when you might not have that chance.”

Mako met Herc’s gaze and nodded once before refocusing her attention on her meal.

“Ranger Raleigh Becket, please dial the operator,” the ‘dome-wide paging system sounded a moment later. “Ranger Raleigh Becket, please dial the operator.”

“Left my phone in my room,” Raleigh said sheepishly. “Borrow one of yours?”

Chuck pulled out his, disabled the pass code, and then passed it over. Like all of the PPDC-issued cell phones, it was set up so that he could dial Shatterdome internal extensions provided a special code was entered. “987 first, then zero-zero,” he reminded Raleigh.

“Thanks,” Raleigh said gratefully, and rose from the bench to step away a few feet.

“This is Raleigh Becket,” he said.

The trio watched as disbelief crossed his face, followed by a blank look. “Yes, of course. Give me a moment.” He strode away, taking Chuck’s phone with him.

Herc elbowed his son. “Go after him,” Herc advised.

Chuck looked over at his father. “Why?”

“Because whoever he’s talking to just gave him information he doesn’t like,” Herc surmised. “And it’ll be easier for you to talk to him about it if –”

“I’m there anyway,” Chuck finished, and rose. “My phone after all.”

Mako waited until Chuck had departed before turning her knowing gaze on Herc. “Pushing?” she asked delicately.

“How’s my boy supposed to learn how to be in a relationship if he doesn’t make the effort?” Herc returned. After last night’s conversation, Herc knew that Chuck was wary of pushing Raleigh too far, but this situation, Herc felt, needed a little nudging.

Mako smiled. “I would not have recommended them together a year ago.”

“And now?” Herc asked, curious.

“Now I see how it makes Chuck want to be better,” Mako said in her typical blunt fashion. “And it calms Raleigh to know that he is wanted for more than what he can teach to another jaeger cadet.”

“But?”

“But I worry,” she finished, a small wry smile on her lips. “Would it not be better to find someone outside of this organization?”

“Could you explain what your relationship is with Raleigh to someone who wasn’t?” Herc countered, willing to play devil’s advocate. “To say that he’s your other half but it’s the most intense platonic relationship you’ll ever have?”

Mako considered. “I do not know,” she admitted. “I can only hope that whoever it is would understand that my priorities will always include my copilot.” She paused and looked at Herc. “It seems like an outsider would resent the closeness we share with our copilots. How can such a thing be bad? Wouldn’t you want to know someone that well?”

“Not everyone does, Mako,” Herc told her. “Most people think they want that, but then they find out that we curl around our copilots like cats and assume that means sex.”

Mako scrunched her face in a moue of distaste. “Perhaps Chuck has a point, then,” she allowed. “Raleigh would not think less of him for needing to cling to you after a Drift simulation.” She finished what remained of her breakfast, clearly mulling over the information. “I will see if we have Sensei’s tea. Please let me know if you would like some.”

Herc grinned. “Will do. Enjoy your hunt, Mako.”

She bent her head in a respectful gesture, which Herc returned, before departing.

Alone, Herc finished eating, then spent a moment cleaning up. He left word with the cooks to wrap up what Raleigh hadn’t eaten, then headed to his office. Though he was technically off-duty, Herc had quickly learned that as marshal, he had a job that didn’t fit into a standard workweek. On Dylan’s advice, they’d hired an executive assistant to help Herc deal with the myriad details of his new position as well as support Dylan, the deputy marshal, and Ryan, the operations manager. Lily Aksakova had worked for the PPDC at the Russian Shatterdome for that ‘dome’s marshal; she had proven to be an invaluable resource. Herc appreciated her unflappable nature and organizational skills.

Lily had left him her usual meticulous notes on what he needed to pay attention to that morning, along with the usual admonition that he was to spend no more than two hours at work. She’d even set up a timer on his desktop to help him stay on track. Herc appreciated it, and had gotten into the habit of using his Saturday mornings to read over what he’d been sent. Both Dylan and Ryan were experienced PPDC personnel, so Herc had little to worry about from their end of the business. Still, Herc didn’t like being kept in the dark, and would never be Stacker, reluctant to show his hand even to his 2IC. The newest jaegers, Sentinel Falcon and Emerald Star, had been designed by Mako and Hu and were scheduled to launch in three months after an intense build schedule. A rotating crew of four pilot teams, trained by Chuck and Raleigh, would take turns piloting the jaegers. The jaegers had been made possible through a combination of donations and contracts for search and rescue, salvage, and reconstruction operations. The UN kept calling; Herc still hadn’t heard anything that made him want to accept their offers.

Today’s workload was nothing more than progress reports and a handful of invitations to various social events. Herc saw that the one on top was from the Japanese Consulate, inviting him and a guest to a dinner party in honor of Culture Day, which was in a month. Lily had scrawled _‘bringing Mako does not count as a guest; she was invited separately’_ on a sticky note on that one. The other two were for holiday parties – one from the Australian Consulate, the other from the US Consulate’s Women’s Club. Herc knew he had the option of refusing, but these felt like obligatory appearances. He wondered if it was too early in their relationship to ask E.J. if she would mind going with him to the Culture Day dinner and made a mental note to ask her the next time they met. The other two he held in reserve for the moment, unwilling to commit until he knew if he was going to be alone or asking Dylan or Grace to accompany him.

Those decisions made, Herc turned his attention to other details requiring his attention before the timer Lily had set buzzed, reminding him that he was not required to spend an entire day at his desk. Pleased at what he’d accomplished, he checked the weather forecast before he shut down his computer and exited his office.

His quarters were empty and from the lack of a dog, Herc surmised Max was with Chuck. October in Hong Kong was summertime, and the day promised to be clear, sunny, and with a low chance of rain. Herc wanted to take advantage and ride his motorcycle, needing a change of scenery, so he grabbed his motorcycle gear and went looking for his son and his teacher, hoping they’d be interested in going with him.

Richie didn’t answer the knock on his door, so Herc texted him. “Sorry, out with Michelle,” was the reply. “Back in time for dinner.”

Shrugging, Herc went in search of his son. He found Chuck sitting on the observation platform for Sentinel Falcon, looking at the mostly-complete jaeger like it held the answer to the universe. Herc sighed; he knew that look. It usually meant that Chuck had found out something he didn’t like and couldn’t change. At the feel of Herc’s immortality, Chuck got to his feet.

“Where’s Max?”

“Left him with Raleigh.” Chuck let out a breath. “Some enterprising reporter went digging to find Raleigh’s sister, hoping to reunite them.”

“She’s dead,” Herc surmised.

Chuck nodded. “Kaiju blue,” he said. “I made the reporter tell me how the fuck, since everybody knows how you get it. He said Jazmine worked for a company that specialized in cleanups, post-kaiju-attack, and her suit became torn.”

Herc closed his eyes briefly. “How long ago?”

“Three years.”

“How’s Raleigh taking it?”

“Like it’s his fault.”

“Think he’d be up for a change of scenery?”

“Asked him and he said no. It’s why I left Max with him.” Chuck studied Herc. “I figured if I hovered, I’d piss him off. Mako made him tea and is staying with him. I take it you’re feeling hemmed in?”

Herc nodded. “Might not be the best timing, but maybe if we’re not around, he can let out his grief.”

Chuck nodded once, and, after a stop for Chuck’s motorcycle gear, headed out. The city was buzzing with activity, and both of them felt the distinctive signatures of several immortals as they rode, but no one approached them. Herc was grateful; he hated having to fight another immortal to the death, and knew his son had never done so outside of practice.

They parked and had lunch at one of the city’s many little cafés, devouring fragrant broth and thick noodles in the unconscious synch they often fell into when they were together. “You up to more riding or do you want to get back and see how Raleigh is doing?” Herc asked as they finished lunch.

“Get back,” Chuck said. “Doesn’t seem right to dump him all on Mako.”

Herc studied his son. “She’s his copilot.”

“Yeah, well,” Chuck said, picking up his helmet, “I’d like to be the guy he comes to first before her. You ready to go, old man?”

Herc knew his son wasn’t going to take Raleigh’s grief as an excuse to push him away for long. That lesson had been one of the first Herc had had to teach Chuck, post-Scissure: that it was okay to grieve, but not shut out the world because it came calling whether you were ready or not. “You can’t push him if he’s not ready,” Herc cautioned now.

“Yeah I can,” Chuck replied, grinning. “You know how Stacker got him off that stupid Wall?”

“No, Stacks never said.”

“Asked him where he’d rather die – there or in a jaeger.”

Herc whistled softly.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah, which likely means his sister died doing something she believed in, too." Chuck grinned crookedly. "Figure by now, Raleigh might be ready to hear that."

"Good luck with that." Herc reached for his helmet, signaling that he was ready to return to the Shatterdome.


	5. Chapter 5

After parting ways with his father, who’d been pulled into a discussion about motorcycles with a few of the motor pool crew, Chuck headed to see Raleigh. A few steps into that hallway showed that Raleigh’s door was propped open. At Chuck’s approach, Max barked, announcing him, and Raleigh looked up from his seated position on his bed. Max leaped down from the bed and ran to greet Chuck.

Chuck indulged his dog with pets before turning his attention to Raleigh. “How are you?” Chuck asked when he straightened to his feet.

Raleigh shrugged. “Like I got confirmation of something I already suspected but hadn't wanted confirmed,” he said dryly. Gesturing to Chuck’s leather jacket and helmet, he asked, “You and your dad have a good ride?”

Chuck nodded and stepped inside the room. “Been outside?”

“Hu stopped by, insisted we get out, so we took Max for a long walk about an hour ago,” Raleigh said. “Got coffee and a snack at the little café up the street. Hu got his hands on a power wheelchair that lets him stand up and sit down – he was pretty psyched to try it out. He’s already talking about fine-tuning the engineering. I swear he gave our security detail quite the scare.”

“Must’ve been quite a sight,” Chuck said. “You gave him any suggestions?”

“Mostly in the hydraulics and the upper body supports,” Raleigh admitted. “He’s gonna have days where his body won’t cooperate the way he wants.” Hu had survived the explosion that had killed his brothers, but his legs had been permanently damaged; the escape pod had been designed for speedy extraction at the cost of pilot injury. 

“He take that okay?” Hu prided himself on his engineering skills; it had been months before he’d accepted Raleigh’s help on anything.

“Said that was why he wanted to talk to me and demonstrate what his new chair could do, since my arm still gives me fits.”

Chuck whistled softly. “What made him change his mind?”

“Not sure, but I’m not going to look that gift horse in the mouth,” Raleigh said, shrugging carelessly. “You know I’ve never held his attitude against him. He has every right to feel like he’s two-thirds gone.”

Chuck nodded agreement. He’d seen in the Drift the taste his father had had of being in solo control of a jaeger on Lucky Seven’s last mission; it wasn’t anything Chuck wanted to know firsthand. A part of Chuck was pleased to see that Hu had refused to give up on himself, but he, too, had been annoyed to see how Hu had kept Raleigh at arms’ length.

“As for how I feel about knowing my sister died the way she did….” He sighed and shrugged. “I’ll be all right, eventually.”

Chuck studied his friend, amazed again at his resilience. “Yeah, I think you’ll do all right. You want to get dinner later?”

Raleigh considered. “Long as it’s nowhere fancy. Mako decided she needed out, so she’s over at Alison and Tendo’s house.”

“Got any plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

Raleigh considered. “Did you and Richie ever get to spar like you normally do on Saturday mornings?”

“No, he apparently met up with one of his friends; told my old man he wouldn’t be back until dinner. Want to?”

Raleigh let out a breath. “Yeah. Meet you in the kwoon in about fifteen?”

Chuck nodded, and called Max to his side. “See you there.”

Chuck knew that it wouldn’t take either of them that long to change and traverse the distance to the kwoon, but he appreciated the rough estimate anyway. It gave him time to ditch his jacket and transfer his swept-hilt broadsword from its hidden sheath in the jacket to the duffel bag Chuck used for his change of clothes. Chuck stuffed underwear, socks, a Striker Eureka t-shirt, trainers, and a pair of jeans into the duffel bag. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided against taking Max with him, and slid his feet into a pair of thongs for the walk to the kwoon.

The kwoon was located between the PPDC’s administrative offices and the residence quarters. Like most areas of the Shatterdome, it was a secure area, requiring keycard access. Used to the protocols, Chuck didn’t think twice about them. He set his bag next to Raleigh’s along one wall near the door closest to the locker room, lined his thongs next to his bag, and walked barefooted onto the mat, where Raleigh waited with two bō staffs in his hand.

Chuck took the one Raleigh handed him, and they went through the ritual of moving back to the edge of the mat, bowing to each other, then beginning the fight. After so many months of working together and trading sparring partners, they knew each other’s fighting style. Raleigh was an instinctive fighter, with an uncanny ability to guess where Chuck would strike next. Chuck had had to switch tactics in order to win more consistently and borrow more from his father’s playbook. 

Now, nearly two years later, Chuck gloried in the way Raleigh didn’t hold back. An outside observer might think this was a grudge match, all teeth and fangs, but this wasn’t a conversation about compatibility. It was letting out grief and regret and the thousand things Raleigh wanted to say about the unfairness of being the only Becket alive. It was Chuck pushing back, saying yeah, he got it, and life was hellishly unfair. It was no one counting points or worrying about what would happen next.

The sound of wood cracking made them stop. Chuck looked at the broken bō in his hand before eying Raleigh. Both men were sweating and breathing hard from the exercise. “I’m good, you?”

Raleigh mulled it over a moment before answering. “Yeah. Looks like I hit –” His voice slowed and he stared at Chuck. “I swear I hit your shoulder a minute ago.”

“Must’ve not been as hard as you thought if I’m not bruising,” Chuck said lightly, abruptly aware that this was an explanation he’d been avoiding.

“No, this isn’t the first time,” Raleigh insisted. “Every time we spar, we’ve always managed to hurt each other somehow, but you’ve never shown any bruises or cuts. Not like the first time we fought.” He stepped closer. “I’m not stupid or blind, Chuck. You keep putting me off with these kinds of excuses, but I know how hard I hit.”

Chuck let out a careful breath. _How did I expect to keep immortality a secret from someone I spent this much time with? Idiot,_ he mentally berated himself. “And?” he stalled.

“And your bag isn’t only full of clothes,” Raleigh finished. “Every time you set it down, it sounds heavier than it should. You and your dad never let anyone in the kwoon if you’re training with Richie, and I know you don’t use bō because bō doesn’t sound like that. I can’t imagine why unless it’s connected to the way you heal now.”

Chuck looked at him. “It is,” he said. “Give me a second to put this,” he gestured to the broken bō he held, “in the trash.”

Raleigh nodded warily before Chuck stepped away to set the broken staff in the bin in the corner of the room. He heard Raleigh put his bō in the rack by one of the doors.

“Might as well check my bag,” Chuck called out, “since you’re curious.”

He watched Raleigh do so, and saw his shoulders sag at seeing the broadsword in its quick-release leather sheath, as if he’d already guessed what it would be. Chuck moved to stand next to Raleigh, who set the sword down and rose quickly to his feet. 

Raleigh looked confused. “Why a sword?”

“Tradition,” Chuck said simply. “Best way to make sure someone stays dead.”

Raleigh eyed him for a long moment, long enough that Chuck started to worry. “You didn’t survive Pitfall.”

“Yeah, if you call being irradiated and tossed around in an escape pod surviving,” Chuck corrected. 

Raleigh’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “So you’re a medical miracle,” he said. “And I’m just supposed to swallow that crock of shit still? Because I’m not a dumb blond jock with no idea of how radiation poisoning works. Or who didn’t get briefed on how the escape pods work now.”

Chuck studied his friend and realized abruptly how much he’d bought into the façade Raleigh presented – a little broken, a lot mentally damaged, more-brawn-than-brain. Here was a man who’d had the strength, both physical and mental, to pilot a jaeger solo not once but twice – and who regularly acted as Chuck’s more compassionate, sympathetic counterpoint when they trained the new jaeger pilot teams. Here was a man who’d managed to survive for five years with the permanent echo of his brother etched into his brain with no PPDC support – and showed up in fighting shape to pilot a jaeger again. “No, you aren’t,” Chuck agreed. “But the explanation for why I’m alive now and healed is one that defies science.”

Raleigh stared at him. “I could give a rat’s ass about science right now. Science told me I should be a blithering idiot in a mental ward somewhere because I got my brother’s brain shoved into mine when he died.” 

Chuck hesitated. He’d never had to tell anyone about immortality before, and now that the moment was here, he was suddenly unsure if he should.

Apparently, he’d hesitated too long.

“You know what?” Raleigh said disgustedly. “Just forget I said anything. I’m probably just imagining things again. Don’t worry about dinner. I’m not hungry.” He grabbed his bag and walked off.

Unsure of what to do, Chuck stood there silently before shaking himself out of his stupor and taking his leave of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Chuck was halfway down the corridor before he turned and changed direction, not wanting to leave this to fester. He’d spent too many years with that kind of open wound with his father over the kind of killing the Game required; Chuck didn’t want to make the same mistake with Raleigh. They didn’t have the Drift to make their apologies, and Chuck wasn’t about to risk one, not when it could damage Raleigh further.

Chuck knew that one of Raleigh’s favorite spots in the ‘dome was the rooftop observation deck, so he headed there, hoping to find him.

At the sound of his footsteps, Raleigh shot him an irritated look. “I didn’t ask for company.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t like feeling like I fucked up,” Chuck shot back as he drew closer. “What were you expecting me to say back there, Raleigh?”

Raleigh looked at him, mouth set in a tight line. “You don’t want me to know. I’m not worth that kind of knowledge, so it doesn’t matter anyway. Maybe we should just fuck. That’s what you want from me, isn’t it? Least then I know where the lines are drawn.”

Startled, Chuck stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, please. You grew up in a Shatterdome. You know the arrangement: we fuck, we don’t talk about it, and we go to work like nothing happened. That’s why you’ve been hanging out in my room all the time, right?”

“That’s not the only reason,” Chuck shot back. “I thought we were becoming friends.”

“Yeah, friends who fuck but don’t kiss or share their secrets,” Raleigh returned. “Because I’m not good enough for that. Too busted in the head, can’t predict what I’ll do.”

“Bullshit,” Chuck said, getting angry. “You’re twisting everything and I haven’t even begun to explain. I hesitated back there because I’ve been keeping this secret for as long as I’ve been piloting a jaeger.”

Raleigh didn’t say anything for a moment before shaking his head. “Yeah, whatever. You wanna go to my room? You can show me how to suck you off.”

“For God’s sake, Raleigh, not like this,” Chuck said angrily. “Not like it means nothing to you.”

Raleigh’s face shuttered. “Why not? It’s just sex; it doesn’t mean anything.”

Chuck’s heart ached. “Because it does to me,” he said quietly. “I’m not my uncle, fucking anything that so much as looks in my direction. And I don’t think you’re worthless. I just,” he took a deep breath, “have never told anyone about the swords or the healing or the crap that goes along with it. Not unless they were like me, too.”

Raleigh shook his head. “Whatever. You’ll say anything now just to make me feel better. Leave me the hell alone if you don’t want what I’m offering. Just…leave me the fuck alone.” He started to leave, but Chuck blocked him.

“Please, just hear me out,” Chuck pleaded. “You know me, Raleigh. I don’t like lying and I don’t like being lied to. I never…I never thought you’d pick up on how I heal. It just never mattered in my head.” He took another breath. “Because I trust you that much.”

Raleigh paused at that. “So you couldn’t tell me?”

“You know how you keep a secret so long that it’s like a part of your skin?”

Raleigh closed his eyes briefly. “Yeah. Even though it doesn’t matter now, I’m still keeping Yancy’s secrets.”

“Then let me tell you it’s not easy to say that I’m immortal now. Unless someone cuts my head off, I’ll live forever.”

Raleigh eyed him dubiously. “Right, and Hu will walk unassisted again.”

“I can prove it.”

Shaking his head, Raleigh looked at him. “Still sounds like you’re telling me shit. You know what? I’m having a very bad day. I just found out my sister died, so I’m going to go back to my room and forget the world exists for a while. You can tell me crazy shit tomorrow. We’re done here.”

With that, Raleigh turned and left.

“Damn it,” Chuck swore and ran after him. This was too important to let go. Raleigh tried to dodge him, but Chuck stepped in front of him again. 

“I asked you to leave me alone.”

“Not until you understand I’m telling you the truth,” Chuck insisted, and pulled out his boot knife. “Stab me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m...” Chuck couldn’t quite say ‘falling in love with you,’ and switched it to, “You’re important to me. I don’t want you to be the guy I fuck. I want more than that, for us.”

Raleigh looked at him and then at the knife Chuck held.

“Then give me some time and space to think,” Raleigh countered. “Right now if you keep pushing, I’m inclined to stick that knife where we’ll both regret it later.” Raleigh didn’t bother to wait for Chuck’s response, but turned and kept on walking.

This time, Chuck let him go.


	7. Chapter 7

Herc hadn’t intended to spend the better part of two hours getting caught up in a discussion about motorcycles and fast cars that had migrated out of the motor pool and into the jaeger bay, but he’d enjoyed the discussion enough to not regret it. Not quite ready to head back to his quarters yet, he decided to check in with the reception and security staff to see how things were going on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Immortal warning, stronger than usual, seared across his senses as he neared the lobby, and he stepped through the secured door to see Richie, dressed in black slacks, a green dress shirt, and black dress shoes, hugging a curvaceous woman in a navy mini-dress and matching heels. The woman stepped back, smiling as she did so. A pair of silver combs studded with white stones Herc suspected were diamonds pulled her long brunette hair back. She had a heart-shaped face with deep-set eyes, thick eyebrows, a strong nose, and a rosebud mouth. Her makeup was deftly applied, but couldn’t hide the way she looked like some collector’s porcelain doll come to life. A ruby teardrop necklace adorned her neck, calling attention to her cleavage.

“Don’t make me come looking for you again, Richie,” she admonished him, her voice sounding American.

“You know Nick will always know how to get a hold of me, Michelle,” he replied evenly, sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging.

“He misses you.”

“And you’re an incurable romantic,” Richie retorted. “You think everyone ought to kiss and make up.”

“It’s a failing,” she agreed, and then turned to Herc. “You’ll have to pardon him. Wolves raised him. I’m Michelle Webster.”

Herc took the manicured hand he was offered and shook it. She had a firm grip, but no sword callouses. “Hercules Hansen. How do you know Richie?”

“We almost trained together; Mac was my godfather. It’s a long, boring story. I hate the Game and blood and swords; shouldn’t we just get along? I’m not armed; I leave that to guys like Richie.”

Herc barked a laugh. “Never met a woman who was without her weapons, be they words or swords.”

Michelle widened her eyes, playing up an innocence Herc was certain she didn’t have. “My, my, no wonder you’re the man in charge.”

“Better get going, Michelle,” Richie inserted. “Or your fiancé will think you got lost dropping me off, and I know you don’t want to screw that up.”

For a moment, Michelle’s mask wavered. “Whatever happened to the guy who’d stay up all night with me?” she complained, her diction sounding rougher, less sophisticated.

“He grew up,” Richie said distinctly. He looked at Michelle a moment before stepping close and hugging her. “Be safe.”

“I will,” Michelle said, emotion in her voice as she returned the hug. “Love you.” She turned to Herc. “Good meeting you,” she said, and exited the lobby.

Herc eyed Richie, who’d immediately let out a breath and sagged his shoulders as if someone had suddenly released his strings. “Long day?”

“She’s getting married for the first time,” Richie said. “And it’s someone who can afford to keep her surrounded with security and money.” He grimaced. “All of which she failed to mention when she said she’d be in town today.”

“By design,” Herc surmised.

Richie nodded. “She grew up spoiled and in a wealthy house; it’s what she falls back to when she gets frustrated.”

“She can’t fight?” Herc wondered.

“Not well,” Richie said as he used his passkey to unlock the door separating the lobby from the main part of the ‘dome. “And not for a lack of teachers. Duncan passed her off to Amanda, who passed her off to me, thinking that someone the same age would get Michelle to pay attention better.”

“Did you?”

Richie shook his head. “Not really. Couldn't get her to pick up a sword without her acting like it was something slimy, no matter what I tried. Hence the almost trained. After two days, I knew I was wasting my time. If she makes it to a hundred, it'll be because she found a bodyguard.” He held the door open for Herc, who passed through it and then waited for Herc.

“Did you enjoy your day otherwise?”

“I like her fiancé,” Richie said. “And it’s always good to practice my upper-class skills.”

Herc barked a laugh. “Like how to tell someone that they’re full of shit and make them think you paid them a compliment?”

“Precisely,” Richie said with a grin. “Listen, I’m pretty beat. If you see Chuck, let him know that I’ll kick his ass tomorrow.”

Herc nodded. Much to Chuck’s frustration, his years of piloting a jaeger worked against him, and consequently, it was taking him longer than it took his father to learn the control and precision required to execute a sword fight. 

“Will do. And Richie? If Michelle were to lose her head tonight, would you do anything about it?”

“No,” came the surprising answer. “If she’d bothered to pick up anything I’d taught her, my answer would be different. But she’s made her choices.” Richie met Herc’s gaze. “Respecting them means that if she dies tonight, she dies, and that’s the Game. But I won’t be her bodyguard or the guy who decides she died too soon and needs to take revenge. Frankly, I’m amazed she’s still alive, given how she doesn’t fight.”

“Understood,” Herc said with a nod. Then, because he was curious, “What would change your mind?”

“If I found out that the guy who took her out went on to target other friends,” Richie said, and smiled crookedly. “I might be splitting hairs, might be giving a head to someone who doesn’t deserve it – but I was that guy for a while. I get that you don’t live that long that way – someone will always come after you, wanting revenge.”

Herc let out a breath. “And that’s a hell of a way to live.”

“Precisely why if I can, I choose what fights I get into,” Richie said with a nod. “See you at breakfast.” He turned and walked away.

As Richie left, Herc was abruptly hit with his son’s emotions, with confusion and regret predominant. Puzzled, Herc went in search of Chuck and found him in the hallway leading towards the rooftop observation deck.

Seeing him, Chuck warned, “Don’t ask. Just don’t.”

Herc raised an eyebrow. “Something I can help with?” he offered cautiously.

“No,” Chuck growled, and stalked off.


	8. Chapter 8

“Have you seen Raleigh today?” Chuck asked Mako and Hu the following afternoon as they sat in the media room, watching some show.

Mako paused the playback before she replied. “Didn’t you see his email?”

Chuck shook his head. “Been sparring with the old man and Richie all morning; haven’t looked at my inbox yet.”

“Raleigh went to visit his sister’s memorial in Mexico. He’ll be gone all week.”

“Fuck.”

Mako looked at Chuck, startled. “He didn’t tell you first?”

“I wouldn’t be asking now if he had,” Chuck snapped, annoyed.

“If you need help this week with the new pilots,” Hu interjected, “Raleigh suggested I provide you with my insight when he and I spoke yesterday. He said Miguel was giving you some difficulty?”

Chuck breathed out carefully. Realistically, he knew it was reasonable that Raleigh would go to get closure on his sister, but it felt like a deliberate excuse. “Yeah, Miguel isn’t seeing this as a situation where he and Fai will ever fight kaiju, so he thinks the sims are a joke.”

“Then let’s put them in one where they’re in a typhoon and rescuing victims,” Hu suggested. “And see if he handles shifting priorities as well as my brothers and I did.”

Chuck considered and smiled wolfishly. “Done. Do we need to set up the program?”

“Tomorrow morning’s soon enough to call it up from the server and load it,” Hu said reasonably.

“Want to join us?” Mako invited.

Chuck shook his head, feeling like he’d intruded enough. “Yeah, no. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

Hu and Mako nodded, and Chuck left the media room to head over to Richie’s quarters.

Richie looked surprised to see him so soon after their training session. “Something I can help you with?”

“Got a few questions.”

“Come on in, then.”

Richie opened the door to his suite. A privilege of his promotion to head of jaeger maintenance was that he had quarters with its own ensuite; most crew had to share a communal bathroom. It also meant that he gained a desk and a desk chair, but did not have a kitchenette like the jaeger pilots did. Chuck noted that Richie had yet to make his bed, and the covers were tossed haphazardly on top, revealing his modifications. Like most long-term crew, Richie had taken the thin mattress of his bolted-in bunk and added a two-inch thick layer of foam underneath it, then wrapped the end of both in a sheet that was duct-taped to the metal plate of the bunk so that the two didn’t slide. 

Chuck took a seat in the desk chair while Richie sat down on his bunk. “How do you tell someone you’re immortal? I mean, I know the way my old man did it, but what if they didn’t believe you, didn’t give you the chance to prove it?”

The redheaded immortal blew out a breath. “Depends on who it is. If you’re talking Raleigh…” Richie sighed, shaking his head slightly. “You underestimate him, Chuck. It’s part of his style – he’s used to people thinking he’s nothing more than a pretty boy, so he lets it be the truth unless it’s useful for him to be otherwise.”

“Why the fuck couldn’t you have warned me?”

“Didn’t think you needed it,” Richie replied calmly.

Irked by that, Chuck rose. “How the fuck am I supposed to learn if you don’t tell me?”

Richie looked up at him. “Did your father tell you everything or did you just demand it out of him in the Drift?”

Caught by that, Chuck sat back down. 

“Right now, Chuck, you could win a fight, but you’d lose your head to the Quickening and it’s because you weren’t paying attention. I’ve watched you; Raleigh usually wins any spar against you. Why?”

“He’s just faster.”

“Bullshit. He shouldn’t be,” Richie snapped. “Think about it, Chuck. You have how your father fights etched into your head – and Herc’s won against other immortals. I’ve been training you for nearly two years on top of what you know through the Drift. You should be the faster one, the better strategist. What’s Raleigh’s difference? What did Mako tell him he was doing wrong, the first time she watched him fight?”

“He…aw, fuck. That he could’ve taken the matches two points sooner. He holds back, learns his opponent’s style. Fuck. So he already suspected I wasn’t telling him something important, and the longer I didn’t tell him, the more he thought that all I wanted from him was a fuck buddy.”

Richie nodded. “And what have I been trying to get you to see for the last year?”

“That I…” Chuck took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “I identify myself as a jaeger pilot first. That nobody else and nothing else matters.”

“And?” Richie’s tone was relentless.

Chuck stared at his teacher as he wondered why it had taken him so long to see what Richie had been trying to tell him. _You’re not in a jaeger anymore, Chuck; what the fuck are you doing with that sword?_ echoed through his head now. “And that because I keep thinking that, I keep thinking I should be fighting in a jaeger with my father to assist me, instead of by myself with a sword against someone who wants to kill me,” Chuck finished. “Do you think I should’ve told Raleigh sooner?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Richie replied. “What matters is that you kept sparring with a man who survived five years with little to no money and no support system but what he could make for himself. Five years is a long time to hone the instinct to know when to fight, when to run, and when to turn on the charm to get what you want. How much longer do you think you could fall asleep in his room and not have him search your bag, your jacket, before he knew what you carried and where? I’ll bet he knows you carry a picture of your mom tucked behind your ID badge, just like I know it’s the same one your father carries in his wallet.”

“Then tell me how to fix it. Right now, he thinks I’m telling him fairy tales and saying anything to get him in my bed.”

“Aren’t you?” Richie shot back. “You got a week to figure out a plan, Chuck.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” Chuck demanded.

“Because then he’d be in my bed, not yours,” Richie replied coldly. 

Chuck’s eyes widened, shocked. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Richie asked mildly, discarding his usual easygoing manner in favor of the experienced, calculated, and successful immortal he was. “He’s smarter than you’ve given him credit for. Faster, too. People already think I’m your cousin and he’s already shown a preference for redheaded men. He already trusts me; wouldn’t take much to be his shoulder when he comes to vent to me about you. I know already what I’d say; you wouldn’t know what went wrong. I could –”

Chuck stared, then kicked himself mentally. Richie had been a friend for half his life; of course, that meant that Chuck had forgotten just how dangerous Richie could really be – or that Richie knew exactly which of Chuck’s buttons to push. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Chuck retorted, “and quit trying to wind me up. I get it, yeah. Won’t mean shit to him if I’m parroting you.”

Richie smiled. “There’s hope for you yet. Now get out of my room.”


	9. Chapter 9

Aware that his son was in a mood after the morning’s training session, Herc took Max out for a long walk, hoping that by they returned, Chuck would be in a better one. From the way Chuck was tossing a tennis ball against one of the walls in their quarters, Herc surmised it wasn’t that much better. “Want to get some lunch?” Herc offered.

Chuck shook his head. “Did you know Raleigh left for Mexico?”

Herc nodded. “Dylan approved the request and took him to the airport herself. Sucks about his sister.”

Chuck let out a breath. “Yeah. Should’ve looked at his file sooner – there’s a picture of her with them in their official photos when they were awarded Gipsy. Besides the one from when they were kids, Raleigh’s got one of her that had to be taken sometime after the one in the file; she looks older, more like Yancy.”

Herc unclipped Max’s leash and set the dog on the bed next to Chuck. “Never met her, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

Chuck shook his head. “Didn’t think you would have. Dylan told me there was a media blackout on any relatives of jaeger pilots if they were younger than twenty-one when the pilots were in the program. Is that why it was such a big deal when I got interviewed, back when you and Uncle Scott were in Lucky Seven?”

Herc nodded. “An extremist would have to work very hard to get to you, unlike anyone on the outside.”

Chuck frowned at the memory. “You never said.”

“You didn’t need the added pressure,” Herc said. “Then you stopped being the most interesting thing about our family. Pretty sure Scott did some of that shit deliberately to keep attention off you, then he got hooked on it.”

“How long before he gets out of prison?”

“At least another decade,” Herc said, taking a seat on his bed to remove his trainers. “Frankly, I’ll be surprised if he’s alive by then.”

“How come?”

“Last report I got said he’s sick. Apparently, one of the long-term side effects of the kaiju blue fever drug is an increased susceptibility to strokes; he’s also prone to sometimes violent mood swings and they’ve had to restrain him to prevent him from getting into fights with the other prisoners.”

Chuck paused. “He’s not immortal.”

Herc shook his head. “No. Never felt a whiff of potential from him, not like you. Richie's the one who told him he wouldn't be."

“Did you ever wish he could be like us?”

“For about a nanosecond, yeah. Then I saw how much he paid more attention to the swing of Richie’s hips than the moves Richie was trying to teach us, and realized Scott wouldn’t change. Not even if it meant his life.” Herc studied his son. “What’s on your mind?”

“Should’ve told Raleigh about immortality before I started sparring with him every day,” Chuck said ruefully. “Or just not sparred with him at all, but how the hell could I have avoided that and taught our new pilots?”

“I did try to point that out to you,” Herc reminded his son. “You said it would be fine. What changed?”

“Forgot that in a fight, Raleigh is trying to think two moves faster.”

“And he’s figured out that we might as well put up a neon sign that says ‘something’s not normal here’?”

“Yeah. I’m not worried he’d tell anyone, just that he….”

“Might not want to hang around you after he comes back.”

“Yeah.” Morosely, Chuck contemplated his dog. “What’s the biggest secret you ever kept from Mom?”

“How badly I got shot,” Herc replied immediately. “’Course, back then, I thought the medics were the ones who brought me back, so….” He shrugged. “But there’s very little I didn’t share with your mom. Some of the everyday grind shit – she didn’t always want to hear me bitching about it, but I knew that, so I saved it for the stuff that I really got ticked off about.”

Chuck was quiet for a moment. “This E.J. you’re seeing…you gonna tell her up front or you gonna wait and see how things go?”

“Wait,” Herc said firmly. “I’ve only met her once so far.”

“But you met Mom once and fell in love.”

“Back when I had less to lose,” Herc countered. “Biggest danger I had back then was that Scott was going to either piss her off or steal her from me.”

“Did he try?” Chuck wondered now.

“Got slapped for it,” Herc said with a grin. “By her best friend.” His smile faded. “Just remember, Chuck, whatever happens with you and Raleigh, you still need to be able to work together. If it means you tell him that you’re immortal, and you show him, and he decides that means he’ll be on the other side of the hallway – friendly but not friends – that’s his choice, and you have to respect that.”

“I know,” Chuck ground out. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to like it much.” He paused before adding, “I already hate the idea.” He looked at his father. “Is it always like this? Having to fuck up and apologize and…talk?”

Herc sighed. Sometimes, he thought, he forgot just how much of his son’s life had been spent in the Drift, never needing to articulate to someone else what he was thinking. “You aren’t Drifting with Raleigh,” Herc said firmly. “Not even if it’s for five minutes and he swears he’ll be okay. He doesn’t get to fuck around with his brain like that.”

Chuck blew out a breath. “I know, I know, I just…every time I open my mouth around him that’s not about work, I seem to fuck it up.”

Herc sighed again. “Talking is part of being in a relationship, Chuck. Most people go through their lives without knowing what a Drift feels like.”

“Not even if we had Grace and Victoria supervise?” Chuck asked hopefully.

“No,” Herc growled. “You want to fix what’s wrong with you and Raleigh, you two have to talk.”

“I should’ve listened to Mako when she suggested I go after that new mechanic in the motor pool a year ago,” Chuck said gloomily.

Herc bit back a laugh, aware that his son wouldn’t appreciate why he was laughing; he hadn't seen Chuck so morose in years, and he was coming across like he'd been told his favorite toy was broken. Swallowing past the knee-jerk reaction, Herc said, “Maybe. You do know that Raleigh is his own person – not your toy to do what you please with.”

Chuck snapped his chin up. “I know that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Herc said evenly. 

Chuck glared at him. “I’m not your damn brother.”

“No, but you’re making some of the same stupid-ass assumptions. Raleigh doesn’t owe you anything. His choices are not yours to make for him. He thinks for himself and why he’s willing to be your friend is nothing short of amazing.”

Chuck shuddered out a breath. “I know,” he ground out. “Damn it. I know I fucked up. Will you please stop with the lecturing?”

“Not a lecture, son. A reminder to pay attention,” Herc told him. “As I’m sure you’ve heard from Richie multiple times.”

Chuck rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Yeah. I talked with him earlier. You knew I wasn’t getting it, didn’t you?”

Herc nodded. “If you didn’t get it again in another week, Richie and I were going to tag team you when you were least expecting it.”

“I get it now, old man.”

Herc studied his son and saw the acceptance and understanding. “Come on, let’s get out of here. There are still a few hours of daylight left to ride, and both of us will be too busy the rest of the week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Next part may or may not be up on Halloween; depends on how many treats I hand out.~~ Happy Halloween ~~, if not!~~ :-)
> 
> As always, feedback, including constructive criticism and 'I liked this!', is welcome.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! It's a rainy night here on the Pacific Rim where I live. :-)

By Wednesday, Herc had received a text confirming his date on Friday night. He was surprised when Lily transferred a call to him just as he was heading out of his office on Friday.

“Marshal, I have Ms. E.J. Seiler on the line for you,” Lily said professionally. “She said it’s in regards to your date tonight?”

“I’ll take it, thanks, Miss Aksakova,” Herc said, stepping quickly back around his desk to sit down. He waited for the click of the transfer before asking, “Something wrong, E.J.?”

“Yeah, my cell phone decided to leap into the sink this morning,” E.J. said, sounding frustrated. “Fried it good, else I’d have texted you than run the gamut of your security just to talk to you on the phone. My meeting’s run over, so it’s looking like making the movie is out of the question. Do you mind terribly if we just met for drinks and dinner?”

“No, not at all. Do you prefer where?”

“How about at the French restaurant in the Four Seasons Hotel? I’m already here, thanks to my meeting.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” Herc said, and disconnected the line. As he stepped out of his office, he saw Lily still seated at her desk. Not for the first time, he thought she was too much a stickler for formality, but he couldn’t fault her organization or dedication. He just wished, for once, she’d let him call her Lily, rather than address her like a stranger.

“Miss Aksakova, please add E.J. Seiler to the list of authorized callers to me,” he directed. “The initials stand for Evelyn James, but only her parents can call her that.”

“Yes, Marshal. I’ll have the authorization form for her continued access ready for your electronic signature tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Herc said, and left the office. Expecting to go to a movie, then dinner, Herc had planned on changing out of his uniform – a three-piece suit in PPDC navy blue – and into something more comfortable. The Four Seasons Hotel and Restaurant had a dress code; after a moment to check online what it was, Herc ditched his suit coat and tie.

As per protocol, Herc notified his security team of the change in plans before he was driven to the hotel. Herc quickly made his way to the hostess stand of the restaurant.

The eyes of the hostess widened in surprise as she recognized him. “Good evening, Marshal Hansen, how may we help you?”

“I’m meeting a friend, E.J. She said she was already here?”

“Yes, of course,” the hostess said after a glance down at the floor plan displayed on her station. “This way.”

Herc followed her through the restaurant to a private booth tucked in the back corner of the restaurant – not, Herc noticed, the booth right by the kitchen. 

E.J. rose to her feet the moment she saw him. She was dressed in a pinstriped black pantsuit and wore flats on her feet. Herc was able to see that she was about two inches shorter than he was; he’d somehow remembered her as taller. She greeted him with a warm hug before sitting down.

“You look relaxed,” E.J. said, grinning. “I think I like seeing you without a tie.”

“Hate wearing them,” Herc admitted. “Best part of being a jaeger pilot was that I didn't have to wear one. You look beautiful.”

E.J.’s smile widened. “It’s the suit,” she assured him. “I only wear it when I absolutely want to dazzle someone.”

“And did you?” Herc wondered as their server came to the table. “Whiskey, neat, please,” Herc ordered. “And some more wine, E.J.?”

“Another glass would be lovely,” E.J. agreed. “As well as one of those special appetizers you were telling me about earlier.”

“The duck and pancetta mousse with mango?” the server confirmed. 

E.J. nodded. 

“Excellent choice, ma’am,” the server said. “I’ll put that in and have your drinks right out.” He departed.

Aware from his foray onto the restaurant’s website that it had a prix fixe menu, Herc asked, “Did you want to jump straight into dinner or did you want to contemplate it some?”

“Been staring at it while I waited for you,” E.J. confessed, and slid the menu over. “I vote for the prix fixe; anything else is meh to me, and no, you are not going to pay for tonight. I barely spend any money as it is.”

“Because you want to impress me or because you think you should?” Herc arched an eyebrow.

E.J.’s lips curved. “Choice C: because I can. You can pay for dinner next time, and I’ll call it even, regardless of whether you bought me lunch on a stick or something equivalent to what tonight will be.”

Herc raised an eyebrow. “You have an interesting definition of ‘even.’”

E.J. shrugged. “I have a sliding scale, and given that I just had to spend two hours longer than I wanted with someone I hate…dinner will be worth every penny.” The server brought their drinks and she raised a glass in toast. “To better evenings.”

Herc clinked his glass against hers. “Indeed.” He took a sip, welcoming the taste of the whiskey. “So, do you want to vent about work?”

E.J. shook her head. “All I’ll say is that I hate people who think that I’m going to be a pushover and then get pissed when I’m not.” She smiled wolfishly. “He thought that by taking me out here, I’d be so impressed when he presented me with his proposal.”

“I take it you weren’t.”

“Hard to be impressed when what he was asking money for was poorly conceived. Might as well ask for money for a space elevator.”

“Someone did throw money at that,” Herc remembered. “Then the kaiju came.”

“Precisely my point. Hope your week went better than mine did.”

“Everything’s on track that should be,” Herc returned. “I’m down a ranger, though; Raleigh took some leave and won’t be back until Sunday.”

“Raleigh…that’s Raleigh Becket, yes?”

Herc nodded as he glanced over the menu. Tonight’s prix fixe highlighted the restaurant’s French-inspired menu, and made Herc remember that he’d promised to take Chuck to Paris to meet Nick Wolfe, Richie’s ex, who ran a bar on holy ground. “He found out what happened to his sister.”

“Not good, I take it?”

“No,” Herc said, and set the menu aside. “But at least it’s not a wonder any more.”

“Small comfort,” E.J. agreed. “I saw your press release on the new jaeger teams. Is four a lot?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘a lot,’” Herc replied. “As a jaeger pilot myself, I never want to put another team on the risk of burnout if I can help it. That last year of the war – Chuck and I were suiting up in increasingly shorter intervals and for longer times in harness, fighting against kaiju that had learned what our defenses were.”

“Ah,” E.J. said. “So two teams per jaeger, so you could field both of them at the same time but have fresh pilots on standby. Will you and your son pilot one?”

“Probably just to kick the tires, so to speak, but not likely,” Herc said. “Protocol means that the only time a marshal should get into a jaeger is if he’s the only qualified pilot. Chuck never qualified to be in a jaeger with anyone other than me. Stacker and I did a few tests together; that's how he was able to sub for me.”

“And loyalty means Chuck probably won’t want anyone else,” E.J. surmised. “Was it hard to see him in Striker with someone else?”

“Hell yes, even if it was my best friend. Probably because it _was_ my best friend; I knew what both of them were like.”

The server discreetly laid their appetizer down on table.

E.J. stole a piece of mango before Herc could do so, then grinned at his mock indignation. “So it’s true then: you sent your family to battle.”

Herc nodded. “That’s what it felt like, yeah. Mako’s felt like the other kid I helped raise, only Stacker managed to keep her out of a conn-pod longer than I thought was possible.”

“What do you say to those who think that two more jaegers in the world are too many?”

“They’ll be first in line to demand that I should’ve foreseen another Breach opening, or asked for the funding to build one for search and rescue when the next natural disaster happens,” Herc noted dryly. “I haven’t the time or the patience to hear them analyze and second-guess the decisions I’m making. What I have is my own experience, two of the world’s foremost kaiju scientists, four jaeger pilots, and a medical director who’s one of the world’s experts on disaster medicine, all of whom can and will testify that a world without a jaeger is a world that’s going to get blindsided.”

Looking fascinated, E.J. set her chin lightly on her hand. “You don’t think someone will use them to start the next world war?”

“Sure,” Herc said bluntly. “But here’s the thing: they can’t do it while I’m alive, because it’s not something I want. We hold the patents and the intellectual property on jaegers; someone would have to reverse engineer it all – and that would take someone like a nation state to do it. No sane body would dare.”

E.J.’s eyes narrowed. “Because you stand for peace, diplomacy, and world cooperation, and even without UN support, you’re making it happen. Yet you’re here, without a bodyguard, having dinner with me. You that confident of your security?”

Herc smiled. “Yes,” he said simply. “I’m also a very hard man to kill.”

E.J. leaned back, looking quietly impressed. “I must admit, I thought you had to be living in some sort of glass bubble.”

Herc’s smile widened. “Some days it feels like it, yes. Have you heard from your parents lately?”

“My dad finally got his retirement orders. He’s told my mother he’s not moving to Egypt; he’s staying put in Georgia – the US state, not the country. The romantic in me wonders if they’ll come back together, but the realist says hell no.”

Herc took a piece of the duck mousse and spread it on the mango slice provided in lieu of bread. He took a bite and swallowed before saying, “Do you have a preference?”

E.J. smiled. “That they stay at least a thousand miles away from each other. They’ve always been better apart than in the same room; I can’t imagine them changing.” She took a bite of the appetizer before asking, “I can’t recall - are your parents still living?”

“No, they died when Chuck was five years old. Mom had health problems and Dad ran himself ragged trying to care for her. They died two days apart.” Herc shrugged slightly.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your brother? All I’ve ever heard was that he was injured in your last mission in Lucky Seven.”

Herc hesitated and decided to split the difference between complete honesty and obscuring the truth. “He has long-term medical issues that require constant supervision.”

E.J.’s eyes widened. “From being a jaeger pilot?”

Herc hesitated again.

She studied him a moment before surmising, “You can’t say.”

“Not publicly.”

E.J. held up a hand. “I understand and don’t take offense. I can tell you I wasn’t in the US for most of my military career, I just can’t tell you where.” She smiled easily. “So do you want to play those stupid getting to know you games?”

Herc barked a laugh. “I’m pretty sure I answered those for some magazines years ago. Never knew anyone who strung those answers together and made a credible decision based on whether I thought myself to be an animal, vegetable, or mineral.”

The server chose that moment to interrupt; they ordered the prix fixe dinner.

Once the server had departed, E.J. leaned in. “Oh, I don’t know. Might tell me what not to give you for Christmas.”

Herc laughed again. “I’m hard to buy for, I’ll warn you now. I’ve spent the last decade living out of two duffel bags, so the idea of more stuff that I can’t use is abhorrent.”

“What do you do instead of exchanging gifts?” E.J. wondered.

“Depends on where we are that day,” Herc admitted. “Last year was the first where we all had the day off, and Raleigh bribed the cooks to put together a feast for us, just because he thought we should have one. One year, Chuck and I were on duty most of the day, and wound up just crashing and sleeping. Do you have any traditions?”

“Not be alone,” E.J. said immediately, and smiled. “That’s the worst part of being across the world from my parents; they’re in the wrong time zone most of the time.”

Herc nodded. “I know the feeling. Listen, I know it’s kind of early to ask this, but I have a few social obligations this holiday. Would you be interested in coming with me? I warn you now, you’ll be putting yourself in the spotlight.”

“If I minded being seen with you, Herc, I would have left the table last week. I’d love to be your plus one. What briar patch are you throwing me into?”

Herc grinned. “First one is next month, in honor of Culture Day in Japan. Since Stacker made a tradition of attending it with Mako, I’m now expected to attend as marshal.”

“He wasn’t Japanese, was he?”

Herc shook his head. “He put himself through a crash course for Mako; he didn’t want her to be that girl you see on the cover of _Time_ and then left to grow up in an orphanage.”

“Given how the press harped on your relationship with your son, it seems amazing to me that no one really made a big deal of theirs.”

Herc shrugged. “It wasn’t a secret, but Mako wanted to be known for her own talent, not be known as Stacker’s daughter. Plus, Stacker was relentless in trying to make sure the focus stayed on killing kaiju. After a while, the media gave up because the juicy gossip they were hoping to find wasn’t there.”

“So you go in his honor.”

Herc nodded. “I’ll send you the details,” he said, and steered the conversation to lighter topics while they ate. He learned she was horrible at anything crafty (“too perfectionist”) and had a weakness for word puzzles. 

After their server brought out the dessert course, E.J. looked at Herc and said, “It occurs to me that, due to your security, dating you is going to be interesting.”

“In what way?”

“Do I need to be able to clear a background check to date you?” she asked bluntly.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Herc asked cautiously.

E.J. shook her head. “No, but it’ll be the first time in my life I’ve had to pass one to date a guy. Plus there are redacted sections in my file if you go back far enough.”

Herc met her gaze calmly. He wasn’t about to apologize for the level of his security. “E.J., you know the kind of threats a guy like me faces.”

She nodded. “Like I said, first time it’s been me on this side of the table. So does that mean you won’t be joining me at my place until that’s been cleared as well?”

“Would you like the pretty lie instead?”

E.J. laughed softly. “No.” Then she shook her head, as if laughing at herself. “I don’t know why I thought you were going to be more like your son, less down-to-earth and approachable.”

“I’m just a guy from Down Under, E.J. I can’t say I did the best job of parenting Chuck – some have said I didn’t parent him much at all – but when I was his age, the only person who kept me grounded was his mother. Angela wouldn’t let me get away with that kind of arrogance.”

“How did you two meet, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“She was the new student in high school, and I knew my brother would ask her out if I didn’t beat him to it.”

E.J. blinked. “You were high school sweethearts?”

Herc nodded. “Probably why we made it work. Everybody was telling us we were too young, and we were both stubborn enough to want to prove everybody wrong.” He used the excuse of tasting his dessert to gather his thoughts before adding, “You’re the first person I’ve dated since Angela died.”

E.J. let out a slow breath at that. “All right then. Send me the details of your social calendar and I’ll see if I can make you look good.”

Herc smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine.”

Part of Herc was tempted to say screw it and take advantage of the fact that they were in a hotel, but he wanted this relationship to last. As they said goodbye, Herc pressed a chaste kiss onto E.J.’s lips, hugged her gently, and then let her go. It wasn’t enough; he wanted more.

Judging from the look on E.J.’s face, he wasn’t alone.

“Thank you for dinner,” Herc said sincerely. “Sleep well tonight.”

“You too, Herc. I’m in meetings most of next week, but if you want to get together next weekend, let me know.”

Herc nodded. “Depends on the background check,” he told her regretfully. As much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, the world he operated in was different now, and he'd had the lecture from his chief of security about what he needed to know about a potential girlfriend. As interested as he was in E.J., he wasn’t willing to gamble the entire safety of the PPDC just for her. He just hoped his instincts - and Grace's initial recommendation - were on target, and the check was a mere formality.

E.J. didn’t look surprised at the qualifier. “In that case,” she leaned in and stole another kiss before turning and walking in the direction of the train station. Herc let himself watch her go before he turned towards where his driver waited.


	11. Chapter 11

Given the way Raleigh left without saying goodbye, Chuck wasn’t expecting a hello, so he was careful to give Raleigh leeway the week following his return. Midday Tuesday, Raleigh looked over at him while Miguel Santos and Fai She, one of the new pilot teams, were in the simulator and said, “I’m not going to bite.”

“No, but I think we need to talk.”

Raleigh nodded. “Tonight after dinner.” He gestured to the simulation. “So do you want to yell at Miguel or should I?”

Chuck looked at the projected battle as the balance alarms sounded. “You do the honors. I yelled at him last week for trying the same shit in a scenario the Weis once faced. He’s going to be feeling that all day.”

Ten minutes later, still looking green around the edges and clad in their navy blue drive suits, Miguel and Fai sat in the classroom with their fellow pilots. “What was your first mistake?” Raleigh demanded.

Fai She, a stocky half-Chinese, half-Thai woman, glared at her copilot. “Letting him in the right harness,” she grumbled.

“No,” Chuck snapped. “Now isn’t the time to debate who has command.”

“Overextended our reach?” Miguel ventured.

“Try again,” Raleigh said. “What were you thinking you could do?”

“If I just grabbed the ship...” Miguel started.

Fai glared at him. “In that wind?”

"What wind?"

"The one blowing across the bay," one of the other jaeger pilots, Curtis, noted dryly. He was a sandy brown haired Brit who looked like a muscle-bound surfer. His copilot was a wiry Vietnamese named Võ. Both men looked at Miguel in contempt, but while Võ contented himself with glaring, Curtis continued speaking. "The one you should've heard LOCCENT warn you about when you headed out to meet the kaiju. You're gonna get your copilot killed, Miguel."

Miguel’s eyes widened.

Raleigh nodded grimly. “This sim is based on the scenario my brother and I faced the last time we piloted. We were given the order to save Anchorage and forget about the ship. We chose to try to do both; my brother died and I managed, barely, to keep it together enough to kill the kaiju. They tell me I spent the next two hours screaming my brother’s name and looking for him, instead of heading back to base. You think you’re better than me?”

That made Miguel pause. “These are just sims; it’s not like being in a jaeger.”

Raleigh stared at him. “If it’s just an amusement park ride, then why do we bother to check to see if you’ve fried your brain?”

Miguel stared back, then broke. “You’re saying if I tried what I just tried in a jaeger for real, I’d tossing my cookies in my harness.”

“If you were lucky and could pull it together long enough to recover,” Raleigh said coldly. “Best case scenario, you’re dead and your copilot’s brain is fried. Why the fuck do you keep thinking this is all some kind of joke, Miguel? You’re very close to getting yourself disqualified. You taking shit? Something made from kaiju parts?”

“No!”

“Then please explain why you think we’re wasting your time.” Raleigh crossed his arms.

“Thought you were just taking it easy on us. That the real thing isn’t this.”

“Permission to request a new copilot,” Fai said in disgust, looking at Chuck and Raleigh. “He thinks this is just a fancy video game.”

“Granted,” Chuck said and grabbed the trashcan in time to provide a receptacle for Miguel to heave into.

Fai nodded her thanks. She waited until Miguel had recovered before telling him scathingly, “I told you I was serious about doing this and you laughed.” She leaned in. “You did this all to yourself, Miguel. I wanted to help you and you fucked with me just because you thought you were better than some half-breed girl. Told you that you were looking up to the wrong Hansen.”

She turned to Raleigh and Chuck and drew herself to attention. “I understand if you’d rather reassign me than put me with someone else.”

Chuck shook his head. “You’re not the problem, Ranger She.”

Raleigh glanced at him before turning to the newest pilots. “Everyone but Ranger Santos, head over to Conference Room 3. Chuck, you want this or shall I?”

Chuck nodded grimly. “I’ll take this. You walk them through the debrief; this one’s all yours. Unless you'd rather not discuss this one again?”

Raleigh shook his head. “No one knows it better than me, same way Hu knows last week's almost killed him and his brothers because they weren't used to having to balance rescuing people and standing up in a typhoon and having to fight kaiju.”

Chuck waited until Miguel had stopped breathing carefully before pulling up a chair and straddling it backwards. “You beat out sixteen other candidates to get this far, Mr. Santos. You’ve just pissed off every person who could provide you backup in a fight. And for what? To be like my uncle?”

Miguel’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with that? He piloted a jaeger just fine.”

Chuck looked at him in pity and disgust. “You’re a goddamn disgrace, Miguel. The only difference between you and my uncle right now is that I’m stopping you before you get into a jaeger.” He pressed the call button for security, who arrived promptly. “You’re the worst kind of jaeger pilot wannabe, Miguel Santos. You want the fame without the work. I hope you enjoy the silence in your head and the recurrent nausea.” To the security team, Chuck said, “Get him out of that drive suit and down to Medical. Tell Dr. Chandel and Dr. P’Eng I want a full evaluation.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chuck breathed out carefully before heading over to the conference room. He found Raleigh moderating the analysis of Miguel’s mistakes. For a moment, he hung back, admiring how Raleigh kept everyone from ganging completely up on Miguel, and used it to argue strategy, while holding it together enough to discuss a scenario he still had flashbacks and nightmares about. “What would you do different?” Raleigh kept asking. “Can you live with that choice?”

Finally, Curtis asked, “Excuse me, sir, but how do you live with the choices you’ve made?”

Raleigh shrugged. “One day at a time,” he answered honestly. “And then,” he looked to where Chuck stood at the back of the room, “you find the people who give you reasons to think about more than that one day. Some of those people might be in this room; they might not be.”

“And if we never face a kaiju?” Darin Pavlova, who formed half of the new Russian team, asked.

“Then you have training that’ll give you the strength to believe you can pull off damn near anything,” Raleigh offered. “We’re training you as if the kaiju is an extra threat you have to face. It may well be some government son-of-a-bitch who thinks his special interest is more precious than what you know needs doing first.”

Chuck grinned wolfishly. “And then you can tell him he’s no kaiju. Rangers, please spend the afternoon practicing your forms until dinner or getting rest; we will be meeting with the marshal. Tomorrow morning, we’ll go through this again with a new scenario - earthquake evacs. Ranger She, we’ll let you know in the morning who your new pilot will be.”

Following protocol, Chuck and Raleigh spent the rest of the afternoon in Herc’s office, hashing out what to do with Miguel Santos with the assistance of Jeremy Livojević, the chief of security, as well as Dr. Grace Chandel and Dr. Victoria P’Eng, once their evaluations were complete. Herc, not liking the reflective pools in Stacker’s office (he’d almost fallen into them at least twice, post-Pitfall) or the fact that it was a combined office and quarters, had relocated his office to one closer to the administrative section of the ‘dome. It meant that the layout more closely resembled a typical high-level corporate executive’s office, complete with a conference table big enough to seat eight, a wall-mounted video screen with telecommunications and videoconferencing capabilities, a mini-fridge for beverages, and a sturdy wood desk with a comfortable desk chair and two guest chairs. The PPDC flag hung on one wall; a giant display that duplicated LOCCENT’s kaiju monitoring stations hung on the other. 

Chuck thought the new marshal’s office suited the new mission of the PPDC better than Stacker’s old one, and he appreciated that the conference table’s chairs were decently padded for these kinds of long meetings. Now, he sat next on his father’s left, next to Jeremy; Grace Chandel took the chair on Jeremy’s left, nearest the video display. Dylan, as deputy marshal, sat on Herc’s right. Raleigh sat between her and Victoria. As LOCCENT chief, Tendo had the last seat.

“All right,” Herc called the meeting to order. “What did you find?”

“Traces of a known stimulant in his system,” Grace said, naming a common sinus remedy. “At double the recommended dose. As you know, we don’t allow jaeger pilots to take anything without clearance from Medical, which Miguel didn’t have. It made him more prone to nausea.”

Chuck looked at the report Grace had displayed on the screen mounted in Herc’s office and sat back in his chair, disgusted. “What moron thinks taking anything before hooking his brain up to someone else’s is a good idea?”

“Someone who’s spent three years as a video game champion for South Korea as a teenager,” Jeremy said sourly. He was a barrel-chested man of Croatian heritage with prematurely gray hair, a prominent nose, deep-set brown eyes, a pointed chin and wide forehead. He’d been recruited specifically to replace the Hong Kong Shatterdome’s chief of security after Operation Pitfall; Herc had thought Jeremy’s predecessor too willing to allow gaping holes in the name of budget cuts. “My predecessor thought this was not a significant detail. His notes indicate he thought it might be an indication of good reflexes.”

Herc sighed loudly. “Great. Do we know where he was over the weekend?”

“Bar hopping,” Jeremy said. “Tried ditching his security detail no less than three times; gave up when Poppy told him it was either stop trying or they were going to take him back to the ‘dome. She said he told her that she was cramping his style.”

“Wasn’t she on our detail when Scott was around?” Chuck asked.

Herc nodded. “Which is one of the reasons I wanted her on their team. Miguel reminded me a lot of Scott.”

“Similar brain patterns,” Victoria interjected. “And a lack of respect for women in positions of power. I took the liberty of having Gastón interview him; he was more honest than I’ve seen him.” Gastón Avilés was the ‘dome’s newest psychiatrist; he’d been a member of the Sydney team and had relished the opportunity to continue to serve. 

“Okay, so he’s a misogynist asshole. What happens now?” Raleigh asked.

“I don’t know if it would be wise to reassign him within the PPDC,” Jeremy said. “Normally, he’d be offered LOCCENT or jaeger maintenance. We’re holding him under guard in his quarters, but that won’t be acceptable for long. He might claim discrimination if we delay too long.”

“Jaeger induced nausea doesn't care what his race or ethnicity is,” Grace said tartly, her French accent coming through in her annoyance.

“You’ve pulled him from the roster,” Herc noted. “That leaves Ranger She without a copilot. Do you have an alternate in mind?”

“We’ve been training Rémy Lambert as an alternate, since he’s universally compatible but didn’t show a preference for who he wanted,” Chuck said. “He’d be a natural replacement.”

Herc sighed. “All the disclosures we’ll make Miguel Santos sign won’t mean he won’t be trouble. Where’s home for him?”

Jeremy looked down at his tablet. “Initial application paperwork says Texas, but that’s not right. No way he’d pass for a Texan.”

Raleigh snorted. “Hell no. His accent’s wrong on his English for Texas, just like mine’s wrong for Alaska.”

“What’s wrong with yours?” Chuck frowned.

“My mother was French, so we learned French first, then English.”

“Got it.”

Herc cleared his throat. “Jeremy, did you run a second check?”

Jeremy nodded. “He’s Korean. His parents emigrated from Brazil when he was eight; there are pictures online of him competing for one of the South Korean video gaming teams.”

“How big of a threat is he, if we put him with the maintenance crew?”

“I wouldn’t trust him in this building,” Victoria said immediately. “He got a taste of what he wanted and now we’re yanking it back from him.” She paused before adding, “He looked up to your brother, sir.”

“Fuck,” Herc said, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Fine. We need to handle this carefully. Dylan, can you work out a severance package like what we used to give the cadets in the Academy? Ticket back to where he came from, two weeks’ pay, I think it was?”

Dylan nodded. “Victoria, if you have suggestions on what else we should include, I’d appreciate your input. The sooner we get him out of here, the better we’ll be. Herc, you’ll need to give him the official discharge – he won’t take it from me.”

Chuck glanced at Dylan. “Why not? My uncle did just fine.”

“Your uncle respected me first,” Dylan said evenly. “Miguel doesn’t. He sees a Disney character. I believe his first words to me were ‘They put Tinker Bell in charge?’”

“Jeremy, you’ve taken care of his access?” Herc asked.

Jeremy nodded. “As soon as he was in Medical, his badge was suspended.”

“Make sure you include the back door access all jaeger pilots have to the emergency shelters,” Raleigh noted. “Mine still worked across Alaska. I always figured someone wanted me to at least have a warm place to sleep.”

Jeremy blinked at him and quickly turned his attention to his tablet. With a few keystrokes, he pulled up Miguel’s access. “Son of a bitch. Yeah, we’re disabling that. Might not be the humanitarian thing to do, but…Jesus, Raleigh, that gives you an emergency line of credit and a jaeger pilot’s level of access into the computer systems.”

Raleigh nodded. “Tried not to use it unless I had no other choice.”

Chuck stared at the American pilot. Richie’s words, _‘A man who survived five years with little to no money and no support system but what he could make for himself,’_ echoed through his mind. “So you could’ve used our own computer system to…what? Call for help?”

“That’s what it looks like,” Jeremy said. “It’s the ‘kaiju spotted but I’m nowhere near my jaeger’ protocol. We’ll need to review this. I can understand having it, but it shouldn’t still be automatically kept active if you’re not a jaeger pilot anymore.” He clicked a button. “Deactivated for Miguel Santos.”

“We’ll provide him with medications for nausea,” Grace added. “He’s still feeling the effects of that sim.” She looked over at Tendo. “You didn’t change anything from what happened, did you?”

“The sim was configured for Emerald Star, which has better gyro stabilization and dynamic control than Gipsy Danger had. The Beckets were used to going out in that kind of Alaskan winter storm; that requires a cast iron stomach.”

“If you can’t stand your jaeger up off the coast of Anchorage in February, you’re not qualified to be that far north,” Raleigh said with a shrug. “Or trying to defend a city in the middle of a typhoon. How many times did you kill kaiju in a storm, Marshal, Chuck?”

“At least four,” Herc said, glancing at his son.

“Five. You never count the one where it was just raining; we both were ‘oh, it’s only rain’ and it turned out to be so heavy, it was in sheets and we couldn’t see shit.”

“Five. So fifty percent of the time he and I were in Striker, and it was raining when you two went to the Breach.” Herc shook his head. “So, now that we’ve agreed Miguel Santos is better fantasizing he’s a jaeger pilot and will be sent home rather than offered continued employment, is there any other business we need to discuss?”

Everyone shook his or her head negatively.

“Jeremy, please escort Miguel to my office as soon as he’s stable. Grace, please make sure he’s in sufficient good condition to travel. Everyone else, any questions?”

“Anything we should tell the other pilots?” Raleigh asked.

Herc spoke. “Due to medical reasons, Miguel Santos is being released. I know they probably already heard you chastising him for his thinking, but let’s leave it at that. Chuck said he was sick last week, too, after the sim Hu put the pilots through.”

“That means he’s going to be more prone to being motion sick in the future,” Grace noted.

Raleigh looked relieved at that. “Good. I was worried we’d have to say he was an idiot.”

“Well, he was,” Dylan said bluntly. “But for the sake of the program, we’ll keep it to medical reasons.”

Herc looked at her. “Dylan, will you handle the press release?”

Dylan nodded. 

“Then we’re done. Dismissed, all.” 

The group started exiting the room. Chuck was the last to leave. “How the hell did I miss this?” he asked his father.

“You didn’t,” Herc told him. “It just didn’t become known. Ranger She probably thought she could put up with it if they got through these sims. We always knew we might have one or two drop outs once you and Raleigh started them in on these final training sims – the ones where at least one of the pilots was injured.” Herc paused. “Why don’t you take Max and see if Raleigh wants to join you on a walk?”

Chuck half-smiled as he took the leash of the bulldog, who’d been dozing in his corner of the marshal’s office. “We were going to talk tonight after dinner, old man.”

“So? Can’t help to ask, and Max does need the exercise.”

Chuck heard the finality in his father’s tone and decided against arguing further. He found Raleigh in the hallway outside of the kwoon, looking as though he was debating whether he wanted to change and maybe use the room. “Want to take a walk with me and Max?”

Raleigh considered the offer a moment, then said, shrugging, “Might as well. Long as you don’t expect much talking.”

Chuck shook his head. “None required.”

In silence, they made their way outside. By now, Max knew the perimeter of the Shatterdome well, and had his favorite spots. Chuck always made sure to circuit the ‘dome in a clockwise direction; exactly how Herc had taught him to do it, years ago; now it was habit. It had the advantage of putting the front gates to the ‘dome last, so Chuck could choose whether he wanted to be seen or not.

Halfway around the circuit, Raleigh spoke. “For what it’s worth, Miguel was on my watch list as borderline.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wasn’t seeing why. Feel like I’ve spent the last year with blinders on, in more ways than one.”

Raleigh shrugged. “Don’t remember much about that first year after Knifehead. Just a collection of snapshots – like the first day I could close my eyes and sleep without screaming.”

Chuck scrabbled for something to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Raleigh said shortly. “You spent half your life in a Drift with your dad; why should I expect you to be able to talk?”

“Because, damn it, that’s not how it works,” Chuck said furiously. “I’m falling in love with you, all right? I don’t want to fuck up what we have, and I don’t know how not to, with all the things I keep doing wrong. If anyone should’ve spotted a fame-obsessed asshole from ten paces, it should be me, because that’s my uncle.”

“But how long has it been, Chuck, since you’ve seen Scott?” Raleigh asked reasonably. “Just because you got whatever your father had of him in his head doesn’t mean you can see it in someone else.”

Chuck let go of Max’s leash to let him nose further up the fence line. “Maybe not, but,” he let out a breath, “I’ve always thought I should. Raleigh, I’m not apologizing for what happened to you. I’m apologizing for being an asshole about it, for not seeing how far I let you in and didn’t say what I should have.”

Raleigh studied him a long moment. “Why me, then? You could have anyone you wanted.”

Chuck smiled. “Because I want the guy who sees me, not just the asshole jaeger pilot. You look at me and I want to be better than that guy, who only ever cared about how many kaiju he killed. I want the guy who pretends like he’s so broken from piloting a jaeger twice that everyone accepts him at face value so nobody has to know just how smart and resourceful he really is. I want the guy who’s never been kissed by a guy, because I want to be the guy he kisses first. I want the guy who doesn’t need a guy like me.”

Raleigh tilted his head slightly. “Not because I was someone you looked up to, once upon a time?”

Chuck shook his head. “I’ll always be a little in awe of you, Raleigh Becket. Especially if you choose to believe me.”

“Sounds like you’ve had an epiphany or two,” Raleigh noted as they started walking again.

“Richie’s been trying to pound it into my brain every week. Took your reaction to get me to see how fucked up I was thinking. That’s why this thing with Miguel makes me wonder what else I’ve been blind to.”

“Doubt there’s much else. So who’s the mystery woman your dad’s seeing? Overheard Jeremy telling him that he needed authorization for the background check.”

“E.J. Seiler, ex-US Army military intelligence, now a financial analyst with the Asian Development Bank. Since the old man’s the marshal, whoever he gets involved with has to pass a background check.”

“That’s hard core,” Raleigh noted. “Yancy and I got yelled at for talking to a reporter. We thought she was pretty; didn’t know she was a reporter.” Raleigh shrugged. “Though I did see Jeremy’s memo to the senior staff reminding them that outside relationships require clearance. Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be PPDC senior staff.”

“Quit with the self-depreciation, Raleigh. You and I know my old man gave you the option of leaving or staying after Pitfall, no strings attached.”

“No place else feels like home,” Raleigh noted. “And if I’m self-deprecating, Chuck, it’s because I’m standing here, amazed I’ve gotten this far with what I’ve got.” He took a deep breath. “And I don’t want you to demonstrate this immortality shit you tried telling me about last week until you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

Raleigh turned and stepped in front of Chuck. “You’re adorable when you’re oblivious, and I’m falling for you, too. Now quit being such an idiot and kiss me properly.”

Startled, Chuck took a moment to process the request. Then he grinned and closed the distance between them. Keeping his hands to his sides, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against Raleigh’s lips. “Promissory note for later, when we aren’t standing by the fence,” he told Raleigh as he drew back. “Because if I kissed you proper, we’d give the security crew more than they care to see.”

That got him a laugh. “Serves me right for choosing here,” Raleigh said, smiling.

“Wanna head back in? Mess hall should be serving dinner now.”

Raleigh nodded, and if they were walking a little closer than when they’d left, neither chose to comment.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been edited since its first posting. Thanks to a comment from Jocelyn, I realized I'd mishandled a very important thing, so this is me, fixing it. - Raine, 11/3/14

After dinner, Chuck dropped his dog off in his quarters. He also took the time to put a few condoms and lube packets along with his customary change of clothes and two pairs of his usual low-cut briefs in the duffel he’d taken to carrying with him to Raleigh’s room, since they’d often wound up doing some late-night sparring when Raleigh couldn’t sleep. Realistically, Chuck knew he might be hoping for the moon, but he also didn’t want a lack of preparation to be an excuse to put off pleasure.

He was just ready to leave when he felt the warning headache of his father approaching. Swearing mentally, certain his nerves had served as a beacon, Chuck braced himself for the interrogation.

Herc stepped into their quarters, saw the duffel bag, and let out a breath. “You felt so worried and nervous, I was afraid something else was happening.”

Chuck shot him a look. “Paranoia doesn’t look good on you, old man.” He shouldered his way past Herc and didn’t look back, feeling the flare of annoyance emanating from his father. He sent a quick feeling of apology through their Drift and felt the exasperated acceptance in return.

Raleigh’s quarters were a short walk down the hall. Chuck’s knock was opened promptly. Like the Hansens, Raleigh had been upgraded to permanent quarters, but rather than move across the hall (and thereby move into a room Raleigh swore was haunted by the Kaidonovskys), he’d opted to have the bolted-in bunk removed, the holes filled in, and the cream walls painted a soothing blue. The bed had been made in the standard-issue PPDC navy and white sheets. Three oversized comforters in jewel tones and of varying weight were folded neatly on top of a wooden chest that held extra linens and sat near the foot of the bed; Chuck knew that sometimes, Raleigh couldn’t get warm enough and was convinced he was bleeding in the Alaskan snow. Chuck hadn’t been sure that a queen-sized bed would fit in the same space, but he also had the suspicion that Raleigh might’ve welded it or had it made for him, since it wasn’t the same wooden style Chuck and his father had. It was a masterpiece of metalwork, and not easily moved. The headboard curved in a graceful half-circle, with artfully twisted, rather than straight, bars.

“You know, there’s something I never asked you,” Chuck said as he set his duffel bag down near the bed.

“What’s that?” Raleigh asked as he shut the door.

“Did you make the bed?”

“Mako did the calculations, since I knew I wanted a queen-size bed in here so I could sleep without contorting,” Raleigh said. “Dylan suggested the twin size you and your dad have, since those are extra-long twins, but I tried that and felt cramped. I needed something to get my head back in the now, and your dad knew I was in no shape to go on a media tour. Not like you and Mako were.”

“Where’d you get the steel?”

“Took a couple of the bunk beds and reworked the metal. Wanted something that wasn’t going to move if I started shaking in a nightmare. Richie helped me with it. Told me he learned to weld from a metalworking artist.”

Chuck’s eyes widened. He knew that the doctors had been worried about Raleigh’s mental state after piloting solo a second time, and hadn’t allowed him to face the media on the whirlwind press tour Chuck and Mako had made beyond controlled Skype sessions. He just hadn’t known that the ‘special project’ Raleigh had been working on had been this. Due to its size, the bed occupied the entire width of one wall. It suddenly dawned on Chuck that the entire room had been remodeled, since the built-in desk was now to the left of the entry, rather than on the right, and the closet was now where the desk had been. A wide, comfortable leather chair with matching ottoman Chuck had fallen asleep in numerous times occupied the open space in front of the kitchenette, where some pilots put a small table and chair.

“So whose idea was the headboard?”

“I was going to just do bars, but Richie said no. Asked me if I’d been ever arrested and woke up in a jail. When I said yes, he helped me with turning the metal so I’d know where I was. I didn’t know you could twist steel that way; thought if you did, it would shatter.” Raleigh paused. “He’s not who he says he is.”

“Not entirely,” Chuck allowed. “But that’s his story to tell, not mine.” Chuck hesitated before asking, “Do you want me to kiss you before I pull out the knife and do my demo, or after?”

“No blood in the bed, ever,” Raleigh said firmly. “And kiss me. Nobody’s kissed me enough and I like yours.”

Grinning, Chuck closed the distance between them, pleased that their heights were close enough that he didn’t have to lift his head much to meet Raleigh. This time, confident they weren’t being watched, he kissed Raleigh properly, taking the time to learn what made the other man shudder with desire and need. Fire shot through Chuck, a heady feeling, and he eased back, not wanting to rush this first, precious moment.

Raleigh’s eyes had fallen shut, and he opened them to shoot Chuck a heated look. “Did I say stop?” he challenged.

“No, but I don’t assume I have permission.”

“Ah,” Raleigh said. “I’m not saying no, Chuck.”

“Yes, but I don’t know what you’re saying yes to,” Chuck clarified. “More kissing? Can I take your shirt off? Kiss your chest? Lick and nibble? Keep it above the waist? Gotta tell me, Raleigh.”

Raleigh looked startled. “Why so pedantic?”

“My uncle’s ideas on consent aren’t mine,” Chuck said fiercely.

“Ah,” Raleigh said, and something in the way he said it made Chuck pause.

“You knew his reputation.”

Raleigh nodded. “Most everyone did. Party boy, playboy, and everyone figured your dad was carrying most of the load anytime Lucky Seven went out.” He studied Chuck a moment. “From the way you and your dad reacted earlier today, I know there’s more to the story than you’re telling, and I won’t ask. He’s not here, and he doesn’t belong here. This is you and I, so I’m telling you, if we wind up getting naked and jerking off each other, I’m not saying no. Oral sex and anal sex…” Raleigh took a deep breath. “Gonna have to work up to that. Neither of us are small men in that department.”

Chuck smiled. “So does that mean if I want to suck you off, you’re not ready?”

“Later,” Raleigh qualified. “Right now, I just want to feel you.”

“Want some help undressing? This is going to be better if we’re both naked.”

Raleigh hesitated. “No one’s asked me that before.”

“Told you, this isn’t some fuckbuddy shit.” Chuck leaned in and stole a kiss. “So is that a no?”

Raleigh shook his head. “No, this might be interesting. Me first or want to see if we can coordinate?”

“You first. I don’t want to trip and fall.” Chuck waited for Raleigh’s nod of permission before he moved to push Raleigh’s t-shirt up, revealing the distinct pattern of his drive suit scars. He had scars on both sides now, thanks to the mission to the Breach, where Gipsy had lost an arm, a leg, and had been crippled in the remaining leg. Chuck thought the scars meant more than his own tattoos: Striker’s logo, on the underside of his right forearm; and the Australian flag, on his left bicep, which had been his eighteenth birthday present. Ignoring Raleigh’s scars for the moment since he was sure Raleigh was sensitive about them, Chuck bent his head to taste Raleigh’s nipples.

At the wet touch, Raleigh drew a breath that quickly turned into a whimper, and his hands clutched at Chuck’s shoulders. Liking the reaction, Chuck kept licking and sucking, tugging gently with his teeth every so often, before turning his attention to the other nipple. He got a low whimper at the cessation of contact, then when he continued his assault, “Oh, Jesus, Chuck, nobody taught me this, shit, you’re gonna make me come just from this.”

“Can’t have that,” Chuck agreed reluctantly, lifting his head.

Raleigh kissed him aggressively before pulling back and panting, “Get naked. We’ll go slow some other day.”

Chuck laughed and complied with Raleigh’s demand, dumping his clothes in a pile near the linen chest. Raleigh dumped his in the hamper by the bathroom door. Raleigh shoved the top sheet of the bed back before pulling Chuck onto him and kissing him as though the world was ending and they had only a few minutes of privacy before suiting up to kill kaiju.

Heat flared through Chuck like molten lava, making it hard to think of anything but pleasure. He had enough presence of mind, however, to pull back. “Not a race, mate,” he told Raleigh, and ducked his head to nip at Raleigh’s collarbone.

Raleigh shuddered. “Been a long time, not gonna be able to pace myself,” he admitted.

“Then let me get something to help you,” Chuck said, and quickly grabbed a packet of lube from his bag. Climbing back on the bed, he quickly opened the packet onto his hand and used his now-wet hand to stroke Raleigh’s cock. Not expecting it, Raleigh’s breath caught in his throat before he whimpered, and arched into the touch.

“That’s it, babe,” Chuck crooned, enjoying the heavy fullness in his hand.

“Don’t just lie there,” Raleigh demanded breathlessly. “Want to feel you too. Rub off on me.”

“You sure?” Chuck asked.

“Yes,” Raleigh said, “and kiss me again.”

Chuck kissed him, then shifted his body to suit Raleigh’s request. It didn’t take them long to find the right rhythm, and not much longer to find passion’s crest. Spent, Chuck cuddled Raleigh before reluctantly saying, “Too much longer like this, we’ll be stuck. Be right back, unless you want to just hop in the shower.”

“Shower,” Raleigh decided. “But mine’s not big enough to share, sorry, so you’d best go first.”

Chuck kissed him before rising to take one of the most expedient showers he’d ever taken in his life. He didn’t want Raleigh to have time for second thoughts. While Raleigh took his turn, Chuck decided to just dress in his briefs and, after a hesitation, sat down on the floor.

Raleigh stepped out and, foregoing underwear, pulled on a pair of PPDC-issue sweats. “So now we come to the part of the evening I don’t think you’re looking forward to at all.” Crouching down, he leaned in to kiss Chuck. “So how do you want to show me?”

“Pull out my boot knife and stab with it like you want me dead. I’ll come back in a few minutes. If for some reason, I don’t, get Richie.”

Raleigh took a deep breath before he took the knife out of Chuck’s left boot. “Is this really necessary? I know you can heal.”

“Not like this. I didn’t believe it until I saw this.”

Raleigh closed his eyes briefly. “I can’t do it, Chuck. Killing kaiju is one thing; people is another.”

Chuck let out a breath, belatedly realizing he’d miscalculated Raleigh's limits. “Then hand me the knife and let me do it.”

Raleigh hesitated before giving Chuck the weapon. “Don’t ever ask me again to kill you.”

Chuck leaned over and kissed him. “I won’t.” Leaning back, he waited until Raleigh had a clear line of sight before stabbing himself dead.

He revived with a gasp a minute later, in time to see Raleigh staring at him with a look – not of surprise, but of resigned acceptance.

Shocked, Chuck said slowly, “You don’t…you don’t seem surprised.”

Raleigh swallowed and took a breath before answering. “I…I think I expected something like this to be your answer. On the Wall, there was this guy who swore he couldn’t die. He bet people he could survive any fall. So people would push him off for his ration cards. Lasted, oh, maybe a month, before he fell off one day and didn’t come back. There was this weird lightning storm that night and the whisper around camp was that the Old Ones took care of the loudmouth. I never put much stock in any Native American or First Nations tale, y’know? But there was stuff they said about snow and winter and ice that everyone in Alaska knew to pay attention to, so I didn’t exactly take it with a grain of salt.”

Keeping his eyes on Chuck rather than on the bloody knife Chuck held, Raleigh continued, “So when you kept healing and kept not telling me, I knew from Richie that you were like him. He burnt himself bad when we were welding, but he tried to tell me it was nothing. I think he got lost in a memory, because Tessa Noel was the name he muttered when he thought I wasn’t listening.”

Chuck blew out a breath. “Yeah, I am. ‘Old Ones’ is one of the names for people like us.”

“Go, get cleaned up and dressed,” Raleigh said. Mindful of the blade between them, he kissed Chuck, surprising him. “You’re too distracting naked, and we need to talk more.”

Chuck ducked into the bathroom to clean off the blood before changing his now-blood-stained underwear a second time and get dressed in jeans and a Striker Eureka t-shirt. He also took the time to clean his knife and put it away. 

“Please don’t ever ask me to watch you kill yourself again, either,” Raleigh requested as Chuck put his soiled clothing into his duffel bag. “I’ve had enough people I care about die in front of me, and I…I only watched because I trusted it wasn’t permanent, else what was the point?”

Chuck froze momentarily and swore. Raleigh held himself together so well most of the time, Chuck tended to forget the man _had_ triggers until he’d blundered straight into them. “Shit, Raleigh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

Raleigh half-smiled. “I know.” He reached for Chuck’s hand. “You run on impulse more than you think and expect everyone to be able to handle whatever you toss at them.”

“You saying I’m an arrogant asshole?” Chuck half-joked.

“Kinda like that about you, actually,” Raleigh admitted sheepishly. “I know I’m not getting some guy who’ll say anything just to have something to say.” 

Chuck leaned in and kissed him again. “Never that.”

“So what’s the price of all this?” Raleigh asked as they settled back on the bed facing each other.

“An entry into the Game,” Chuck said dryly. “Played by all immortals at some point or another in their lifetimes, it’s a power struggle between good and evil. When immortals fight each other, the winner gets an instant download of what their opponent knew – languages, skills, connections, everything. Fight enough other immortals, and you’ll become powerful enough to rule the world. Some of us go hunting just for that chance.” Chuck took a breath and added, “And I’m told there’s something called The Gathering, when all of the remaining immortals in the world are called to one place in the world to battle to the last, for that power.”

Raleigh stared at him. “I thought there was something different about your father,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Like he’s way more centered than I ever remember him being. I thought maybe it was the change in pilots, but it’s not, is it?”

Chuck shook his head. “No. My father’s immortal, too, and he’s fought a few times. I hated him for it at one point; made our relationship rocky because I couldn’t stand seeing what he’d done in the Drift.” Chuck shifted restlessly. “I hate the idea that in order to keep living, I have to murder someone or they’ll kill me. Didn’t matter that Dad was a jaeger pilot to those who called him out to fight. One even told him that it wouldn’t matter if he died since it didn’t seem like we were winning.”

“Is immortality something you can inherit?”

“Not usually. I’m the rarity that proves the rule, or so I’ve been told.” Chuck shrugged. “I was a shithead enough to make Grace run a DNA match a while back, but that’s because my uncle got under my skin. He tried to say I was his in his congratulatory letter to us after Pitfall. I hope he dies in jail, screaming.”

Raleigh raised an eyebrow. “Thought he was in a long-term medical facility.”

“Did I say he was in jail?” Chuck tried innocently, but he knew Raleigh wasn’t fooled anymore.

“I dunno, I’m not sure I heard why,” Raleigh bargained.

“He raped and killed a girl in my bed when I was at the Academy, and you didn’t hear that from me,” Chuck spat. “So I’m glad he wasn’t born immortal, because his head would be the first I’d take, even if I hated the Quickening afterwards.”

Raleigh whistled softly. “Right. You were saying something about gifts?”

Chuck kissed him. “You’re one. I…didn’t react well to being told about immortality.”

Raleigh half-shrugged. “You’ve never wavered in your belief that I could handle anything tossed my way since the battle in Victoria Harbour,” he pointed out. “It got me thinking that maybe whatever you weren’t telling me was just a Hansen thing and you were too used to talking in the Drift to tell me.”

“So why press for details?” Chuck asked curiously.

“Because I didn’t understand the sword or the knife or the way Richie sometimes acts as though he’s a man older than what his records say. His PPDC photo is the same from when he was on Lucky Seven’s crew – and good genes is one thing, but he hasn’t aged a day.” Raleigh shrugged again. “I hate not knowing and feeling like what I don’t know might kill me.”

“He’s older than he says he is,” Chuck allowed. “How much older is his business, but he’s been the one kicking my ass about everything immortal. He’s the one who told me you had some things figured out and I’d better do something about it sooner than later.” Chuck paused. “He trained my old man.”

“So you have the perfect setup here,” Raleigh said admiringly. “No one questions why you and Richie and the marshal spend so much time together on the weekend. Richie’s been joking he’s the long-lost Hansen family cousin.”

“Like my second dad in a way,” Chuck admitted. “I was pissed off when he left after Lucky Seven was destroyed, because he’d been the one who’d looked after me the most when Lucky Seven was deployed.”

“I’d heard the rumor it was someone on the crew who looked after you, but that crew was so tight, the joke was they were like a Vegas casino security crew. Any questions about you were deflected.”

“Because if anyone looked too closely, I was usually climbing Lucky, doing shit I was too young to be doing and shouldn’t have been allowed to do. I fell off twice; Richie’s the one who assumed I might and put me in a safety harness even when I thought he was crazy for insisting.”

“What would’ve happened if you’d fallen and hurt yourself?”

“If I’d died earlier, I’d have been stuck in that body and apparent age forever. Richie was nineteen when he died the first time. He knows a guy who died when he was ten years old; says he's a ball of rage and cunning who hunts heads.”

Raleigh blanched. “That would’ve changed everything for you.”

Chuck nodded. “I hated Dad every time he put his foot down about me helping on the jaegers, but I didn’t know until I was sixteen why he was so adamant I grow up. I told him that I had to be at least nineteen before I was ready to die.”

“Did you ever think about getting it over with?” Raleigh asked.

“Dad has this killer death glare,” Chuck admitted. “Didn’t know he had it in him. He swore he wouldn’t kill me unless he had to. Wasn’t until I died and Grace explained to me why she wanted to die me the way I did that I understood what my old man was afraid of.”

“Which is?”

“You feel how you die,” Chuck explained. “And that’s why I sometimes have nightmares about enclosed spaces; I knew by the time I was pulled out of my escape pod, I was dying from the radiation exposure and the way I was tossed around.”

Raleigh winced at that. “So why aren’t you out of your mind? You seemed whole when I talked to you that first time in Medical.”

“Grace had me doped up to the gills before she administered a lethal injection. I never felt my first death, so I went from screaming in pain to…not being in pain anymore. Does wonders for your sanity.”

Raleigh nodded. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” He hesitated before asking, “So who else is immortal?”

“In the ‘dome, it’s just me, my old man, Richie, and Grace. I’ll warn you now that if you tell anyone without permission from any of us, it’ll be a tossup as to who kicks your ass first. I sparred against Grace once and she’s no slouch, even if it looks like she might be.”

“Because she’s a woman?”

Chuck shook his head. “No, because she stands there with this plain broadsword that looks like it came out of a replica catalog and acts like she doesn’t know how to use it. Had it slung over her shoulder like an axe and I thought, ‘she’s a doctor; she can’t fight.’ Oops.”

Raleigh stared for a moment before he started laughing. “You underestimated Mako, too.”

“Apparently, I underestimated everyone, you most of all. My biggest blind spot is that I’ve been assuming I’m still a jaeger pilot, not the co-director of jaeger pilot operations and training and definitely not an immortal in a Game I hope never sees the final battle.”

“But you might live long enough to see it happen.”

Chuck nodded.

Raleigh considered. “In that case, I think you’re gonna need my help.”

“How so?”

Raleigh kissed him. “Someone needs to remind you to look past appearances.” He paused before asking, “Unless your dad and Richie have been already?”

“Too used to them; wasn’t listening,” Chuck admitted ruefully.

“Don’t make me come over there and punch you,” Raleigh warned. “I’m feeling a little too fond of you right now to commit more violence.”

“So don’t and kiss me instead,” Chuck invited. “I’m sure we can spend the rest of the night doing something way more fun than hurting each other.”

Laughing, Raleigh moved to straddle Chuck’s lap. “This what you had in mind, Ranger Hansen?” he teased.

“Perhaps, Ranger Becket,” Chuck replied dryly, then burst out laughing. “Now you have me thinking of pilot-to-pilot connections, damn you! The next time I Drift with my old man, I’m going to die of embarrassment. I never learned to hide shit in the Drift like he did.”

“So don’t. You’re not supposed to chase RABITs anyway,” he reminded Chuck as he leaned in for another kiss. It was a long time before they said anything that wasn’t directly connected to their pleasure. Mindful of the line Raleigh had drawn, Chuck decided to save oral sex for another night; now that he knew Raleigh had accepted him and wanted him, Chuck thought it prudent not to hurry into the next level.


	13. Chapter 13

Three days later, Miguel Santos boarded a plane for Busan, South Korea, discharged from the PPDC for jaeger-induced motion sickness, a condition that meant he could never step into a jaeger again. He’d tried to argue that he didn’t have it, only to be dismayed when the mere sight of a jaeger in a video still was enough to induce his nausea. He was given two weeks’ severance, a letter detailing his condition in case he had future episodes requiring medical care, and made to sign a multipage nondisclosure agreement. All access to the PPDC was terminated, and he was not allowed to keep anything he’d been issued, save his underwear. He was given new, civilian clothes to wear on his flight out along with a spare change of clothing. To make sure he didn’t change planes and make the PPDC pay for it, he was escorted all the way to Busan by a member of PPDC security, and met by immigration officials as soon as he deplaned, where he was arrested for failure to renew his passport as a South Korean citizen and falsifying documentation claiming he was American, among other offenses.

While Miguel was being arrested, Jeremy turned in the background check on E.J. to Herc. Per protocol, he sat with Herc to go over what he’d found.

“Congratulations, she’s clean,” said Jeremy. “Relatively speaking for someone who was a field interpreter and whose missions are still classified. Only reason I can even see what her military occupation specialty was is because we’re asking. Anyone else wouldn’t get that far – just that she was US Army Intelligence.”

Herc let out a breath. “And her current associations?”

“Typical for someone who’s very work-focused. Gets along very well with her subordinates and colleagues, and her best friend of the last decade works for an international aid organization.”

“But?”

“She’s not a mere financial analyst, number cruncher, sir,” Jeremy said dryly. “You’re looking at the Asian Development Bank’s senior infrastructure economist. She’s responsible for making policy decisions for redevelopment and reinvestment and leads the bank’s local team in initiatives to promote infrastructure development. She’s one of the bank’s key players here – and they’re the ones backing a good portion of the reconstruction. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted to meet you in a less formal environment – and then ditched whatever pitch she came to deliver.”

Herc sat back in his chair; he was impressed in a way he hadn’t been before. “That explains why she’s been asking some of the questions she has.”

Jeremy nodded. “She lives in an upscale neighborhood, in an apartment paid for by the bank as part of her compensation. The building is secured and was never affected by the kaiju attacks, so it’s become a premium property. She takes the same trains to wherever she goes and is usually frugal.”

“So what’s the catch? You don’t sound too pleased, Jeremy.”

Jeremy sighed. “Do you know what she wants from you? Because she’s a skilled enough diplomat and negotiator that you need to be careful about what you promise. I know you’ll survive damn near anything, sir; I’ve seen you and Richie fight. I also know that what you and him and your son are is something special. I’m grateful to one of Richie’s friends for saving me when I needed rescuing, so trust me when I say that’s one secret I’m taking to my grave.”

Herc rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Would you prefer if I just fucked her and gave her a night to remember?”

“Hardly,” Jeremy said. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

“Herc, I heard you had very nice arrangement with a senior member of LOCCENT in Sydney. Why change?”

“Because it’s a damn empty arrangement, Jeremy. I need more than just that in my life, and I’d like someone to come home to. My son doesn’t need me like he used to.” Herc paused. “And I’m already missing her and I’ve barely spent enough time to.”

Jeremy studied Herc a moment before straightening his shoulders. “I’ll need your authorization for her access badge, but once I have that, you can bring her home, sir.”

“Hand over that tablet, then,” Herc ordered, and scrawled his signature on the screen that came up. “So which of Richie’s friends…?”

“Cory Green is the name he gave me, said it was his fault I was hit in the drive-by. He packed my wound in marked bills, said I’d live, and when I woke up, I was in the hospital. He snuck me out, too, when the police started asking questions about how I wound up with bills from an armed robbery.”

“Do I dare ask for the full details?” Herc asked mildly.

Jeremy shrugged. “It was before the kaiju hit; I made the mistake of crossing a street on the wrong day.” He looked at Herc. “For what it’s worth, sir, I was standing guard on you on your last date. You looked happy and she looked utterly captivated.”

“Thought you trusted me to handle myself,” Herc said mildly.

“You, yes. Everyone else, no.”

Herc shook his head, admiring his chief of security’s stealth. “Anyone else watching me on these dates?”

“Best if you don’t know, sir,” Jeremy said professionally. “Same goes for when you and the others like you run about in the city. You can’t share who to go after if you don’t know.”

Herc eyed Jeremy warily. “Just how long were you with this Cory guy?”

Jeremy grinned. “Long enough to heal and put my life on track,” he said, “and see a little too much. By the time he got me back on my feet, I’d seen him defeat someone who’d assumed a man who didn’t carry a sword couldn’t fight with a pair of knives and some wicked footwork – or wouldn’t hesitate to steal his opponent’s sword to take the head.”

“Anyone else on your team know?”

“Only that you’re not the typical marital artists,” Jeremy said. “The rest – either they’ll see it and know or they won’t.” He shrugged. “My money’s on them not running away in fear when that happens.”

“Appreciate your candor,” Herc said. “Anything else or can I deliver this badge to E.J.?”

“She’s been in policy meetings all week, sir,” Jeremy said blandly. “But it’s my understanding she was going to get a new phone tomorrow. Perhaps you’d like to meet her then?”

Herc stared at his chief of security. At the time the resume had passed his desk, he’d wondered at Richie’s insistence that ‘this guy is worth it’; Jeremy’s resume hadn’t been any different from the top twenty who’d applied – ex-military turned corporate security, blah, blah, blah. Now he knew. “How old were you when Cory rescued you?”

“Twelve, sir, and going in all the wrong directions for all the wrong people. He normally doesn’t get involved – with the Game or other people. Except he’s one of the most generous men I’ve ever known, and he taught me how to be a man worth the name.”

“He did a hell of job,” Herc said sincerely. “And yes, damn it, I want to deliver the badge to E.J. Hell, I’ll buy her phone.”

“I’ll bring you her badge personally, sir. She made an appointment at the store for 1500.”

“Thank you, Jeremy.”

Jeremy rose.

“Oh, and one more thing, Mr. Livojević? If there’s an immortal sneaking into this base on the pretext of ‘helping you test security’, please advise him that I’d like to meet him, and not make Richie or you lie for him. Understood?”

Jeremy stiffened. “Yes, sir. I will let Cory know.”

“Dismissed.”

Shaking his head at the way his teacher had stacked the deck, Herc decided to share his annoyance. A quick dial of his phone connected him to Richie via video. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“When were you going to tell me your connection with Jeremy?” Herc demanded.

“Never?” Richie tried.

“Cut that shit out; I know where you sleep.”

“Do you forgive me?” Richie asked baldly.

Herc sighed. “Yes, damn it. But was Jeremy’s dad sneaking in to see him when Michelle was here?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“Which is a confirmation,” Herc pointed out ruthlessly. “What did you hope to accomplish with that?”

“Wanted to see if Chuck noticed, too,” Richie said and shrugged. “Since he didn’t say anything, I added it to the list of things he’s taking for granted.”

Herc sighed. “Come to my office; I think you and I need to talk.”

“Be right there,” Richie said, and cut out the video transmission.

Fifteen minutes later, Richie stepped into Herc’s office and shut the door. “What are you thinking?” the more experienced immortal asked as he sat down in one of the guest chairs in front of Herc’s desk.

“That maybe you and I have been coddling my son.”

Richie shook his head. “He’s not Michelle, if that’s what you’re worried about. Technically, Chuck is proficient in his sword skills; that quit being an issue six months ago. He’s just been elsewhere in his head – not exactly a surprise, given how long he was a jaeger pilot. You were easier to train because you wanted to be able to protect your son and you’d been in combat before against other people.”

“Do you think if he took a head, he’d be able to get through the Quickening?”

“A week ago, I’d have said no,” Richie said carefully. “But have you seen how settled he is? He has Raleigh to live for, now.”

Herc leaned forward intently. “And what happens if something happens to Raleigh? You made sure that if my son died, I was living for and fighting for myself first and foremost. That what motivated me to win was that conviction that to do anything less was so inconceivable that it wasn’t even an issue. Chuck’s not there yet. Maybe more today than he was three days ago, but it’s not enough.”

Richie sighed. “The problem, Herc, is that I helped raise Chuck. He doesn’t hear me, the same way he doesn’t hear you sometimes.”

Herc made a face at that. “Now I’m feeling guilty for leaving him so much in your care.”

“Don’t be,” Richie said vehemently. “You were doing your fucking job, Herc, which was kill the kaiju. I love your son and don’t regret a minute I spent answering his questions and making sure he was in the safest corner I could find – which I never saw to be the shelter for non-essential personnel. My only regret is that I didn’t realize just how much I’d adopted him until I went to try again with Nick. I wanted to be back on your crew, but the only opening there was when I came back was in Lima.”

Herc heaved a sigh. “Water under the bridge. So if Chuck’s quit hearing the things you’ve been trying to say, who do you suggest? I’m not going to send him out there looking for a fight. Not when his head and his heart aren’t in the same place.”

Richie nodded. “But Chuck needs someone to give him the kick he needs. Can’t expect Raleigh to do it, even if he’s one of the strongest and most resilient people I’ve known.” He thought for a minute before asking, “Did your fights against Connor and Nick help you confirm that you were good enough and that I’d taught you well?”

“Yeah – son of a bitch, Richie. You knew I needed that.” Herc leaned back in his chair, marveling at his teacher’s insight.

Richie nodded. “Yeah, especially after the heads you’d taken. You weren’t sure if I’d taught you the right things, even when you’d won a few times. Quickenings change people in subtle ways sometimes, and you start wondering if you’re who you were.”

“So we need to do something like that to get Chuck to see that he needs to be fighting for himself. I know he’s worked out things with Raleigh; they’ve been spending the last few nights together. Had to shield against my son for the first time in years.” Herc shifted in his chair. “Ghost drift is damned inconvenient when you can feel emotions.”

Richie winced. “All of them?”

“All of them.” Herc’s eyes gleamed. “Mind, I’ll get him back for that.”

“Revenge is not healthy, Herc.”

“How long have you known us, Richie? When have Chuck and I ever played fair with each other?”

“When it mattered,” Richie replied immediately.

Herc looked at him pointedly.

Richie held up a hand. “I know, I know. Just needed saying, is all. Your definition of ‘friendly family teasing’ is not like everyone else’s.”

A chime sounded on Herc’s computer, reminding him that he had a meeting in fifteen minutes. “Let’s wrap this up; I’m meeting with Mako and Hu shortly.”

Richie nodded. “Maybe it’s time to bring in the big guns,” he said. “Connor’s doing his hermit imitation this year – claims it’s his quarter-century right, which is just his way of saying he’s tired and would the world leave him the fuck alone for a while – and Nick can’t leave Paris.”

Herc frowned. “Why not?”

“Because,” and Richie grimaced, “he accidentally tied his Quickening to the city when he avenged a friend who’d conveniently forgotten to tell him that the reason he’d never left Paris was because he’s one of the city guardians or some stupid mystical shit like that.” Richie looked unhappy. “As if I needed further confirmation of that some of the old legends have their basis in truth. I’d asked Nick to come down and visit.”

“And what happens if he tries?”

“Gets violently ill and then has no energy,” Richie said. “He says he’s got a ten kilometer range of the city limits and that’s it.”

“What about his teacher?”

Richie shook his head. “Do you really want Amanda here?”

Herc blinked. “Nick was taught by her?”

“He loved her first,” Richie said with a shrug. “It’s her fault he was poisoned and she had to shoot him. And she’s over a thousand years old. Grace is six hundred.”

Herc nodded. “But she doesn’t know how not to be who she is – a healer. It’s who she’s always been. You’re thinking it needs to be someone who, like you, has had to change careers, figure out how to hide, and reinvent himself.”

“Right now, Herc, if you had to walk away and start over, I have no worries you could. You’d hate being away from your son to do it, but you’d do it. Some people still talk about how cold you were as a commander to send your son on a suicide mission.” 

Herc shook his head. “Wasn’t about my son.”

“My point exactly, Herc. Chuck – how long was it before he stopped thinking about killing kaiju in terms of revenge and just trying to prove he was the best so people would stop talking about you and Scott?”

“Not long. So you think he’s floundering because he’s still trying to define himself.”

Nodding, Richie said, “Yeah. I know who, and no, I’m not talking about Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. I made my peace with him, but I don’t need to bring the immortal homing beacon he is here. None of us want the trouble that brings. Besides, he’s not the only old, experienced immortal around – and I think you’ll like this guy.”

“Who is he?”

“Connor thought I would benefit from some polishing from someone who wasn’t named MacLeod, and turned me over to Matthew. I spent an intense summer with him and he kicked my ass, but in a good way. He really helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my life, now that I had a chance to live it, and that I didn’t have to conform to anyone else’s idea of ‘should.’”

“Long as I meet him first.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“Can you stick around? I want you to coordinate with Mako and Hu; we should be down to the conn-pod customizations and the weapons loading now, so the crew training should match the production schedule.”

“Not a problem, long as you don’t mind me stepping out to send this email to Matthew.”

Herc shook his head. “No, you have –” he glanced at the computer “– eight minutes. Six if Mako doesn’t get waylaid by Raleigh.”

Richie rose and quickly exited the office.

While he waited for Mako and Hu to arrive and for Richie to return, Herc flipped his screen to the report Jeremy had sent him. It was troubling that E.J. thought she should downplay her role; did she think he’d be turned off by her position of power? Talking about immortal training always left Herc feeling a tinge more paranoid, and he forced himself to feel calm. No sense in borrowing trouble, he reminded himself. Tomorrow would be soon enough to find out from E.J. herself her reasons. He knew already he forgave her; he just needed the explanation – and either way, he figured he owed her something for last week’s dinner.


	14. Chapter 14

Herc timed his arrival in the phone store so that it looked like he just randomly showed up; in actuality, it was a carefully choreographed act put together with the help of his security team and the cooperation of the manager of the phone store, who was all too happy to do a favor for the marshal of the PPDC and one of the heroes of the Kaiju War.

Dressed in a t-shirt advertising a charity race and khaki shorts, E.J. was talking with a salesman, who was doing a very good job of pretending like she was the only customer who mattered. Herc spent a moment admiring E.J.’s well-defined leg muscles and the curve of her ass before moving to greet her. Not wanting to startle her too much, Herc touched her left shoulder lightly.

She looked over to see him, and her professional mask slipped to one of pure joy. “Herc!” she cried, hugging him. “What are you doing here?”

“Some men buy their ladies flowers. I’m a practical man, so I went with a phone for you,” Herc said, grinning.

“I was wondering what was going on! I kept telling him this was too much,” E.J. said, laughing.

“Sorry, ma’am,” the salesman interjected, “but the marshal wanted you to have a quality phone. As I said, the cheaper model has had issues with manufacturing since it sourced many parts from here in Asia during the war.”

“May I assume that this is a formality and you’ve taken care of everything?” E.J. asked Herc.

“Yes,” Herc admitted. “If that offends you –”

E.J. kissed his cheek. “No, that’s very thoughtful.”

The salesman beamed. “I just need your signature here, Ms. Seiler, so this will go on your account. Marshal Hansen has already paid for the replacement cost and your first month’s bill, so you don’t need to do anything about that. May I suggest a waterproof case, such as this one?”

E.J. took the stylus the salesman handed her and signed her name. With a side glance at Herc, she said, “I’d better, especially if I’m going to be hanging around this guy.”

“Are you implying I’m somehow responsible for your phone ‘leaping into your sink,’ as I recall you said last week?” Herc teased her as the salesman wrapped up her new phone and case and put them into a bag.

“No, that’s all on me,” E.J. replied tartly. “The next one might be.”

Herc laughed.

“Your new phone is active and registered on the network, Ms. Seiler,” the salesman said as he handed her the bag. “If you have any questions or problems, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

Herc waited until E.J. had slipped the bag into her tote and they’d exited the store into the mall proper before asking, “Did you have plans for dinner? Or would I be presuming too much? I’d hate to offend someone of your position.” 

E.J. moved her head slightly, caught off guard. “What do you mean, ‘someone of my position’?”

“You weren’t exactly truthful about your work title or your position, E.J.” Herc let his annoyance show.

E.J. flushed. “I didn’t want you to think I was meeting you for your support on something I do for work.” 

“Instead you made me think you thought I might be turned off if you told me what you really do.”

“Wasn’t my intent, Herc. Just…” she blew out a breath, “wanted to be judged for my mind, not my title or position.”

“Was that all?” Herc asked mildly. 

She sighed. “And I thought maybe you were as arrogant as your son, so if I said I was just a financial analyst, I’d be able to judge whether you could look past what I do for a living, especially since I’m not white or a man.” 

Herc eyed her. One side effect of having won a handful of fights against other immortals was that he’d gained a better sense of when someone was lying to him. He could see her frustration at being judged for her gender and the color of her skin. “So do I pass?”

E.J. leaned up and kissed him. “With flying colors.” She studied him. “But the fact that you arranged to help buy me a phone says I’m forgiven for what I didn’t say.”

Herc shook his head. “Not quite. I have a few caveats: no more pretending you’re less than who you are –”

“Done,” E.J. promised swiftly.

“And you come back to the Shatterdome with me,” Herc finished. “I may not be able to give you a French dinner like we had last week, but tonight’s our family dinner.”

E.J. raised an eyebrow at that. “Family dinner?”

“A tradition from the Sydney Shatterdome. My deputy marshal, who was the marshal in Sydney, thought that one Saturday a month should feel like family dinner at someone’s house. Due to cost concerns, she scaled it back to once a quarter, and we’ve carried forward here. It’s usually not anything fancy, but everyone shows up and it’s not senior staff vs. junior, like meals have often become.”

“I’d love to,” E.J. said warmly, smiling. “But,” she glanced down at her attire, “I’d like to change. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone today.”

“Nervous that my son might judge you for what you’re wearing?”

“Not just your son, your entire staff,” E.J. corrected.

Herc smiled. He understood E.J. wasn’t vain so much as unwilling to show up in something she’d just thrown on to get a new phone. “Dinner’s at 18:30. What time would you like my driver to pick you up?”

“I’ll spare you the round trip if you don’t mind waiting,” E.J. bargained. “At least let me put on a skirt and a top that isn’t potentially triggering.”

“Oh, I dunno. Hu might appreciate you ran in support of him and his brothers. Then again, he’s gotten acerbic since he survived, so it’s debatable.”

“Not reassuring at all, Herc.” 

Herc grinned. “Afraid you can’t hack it with a group of extremely intelligent, often sarcastic, and very opinionated people, E.J.?” 

“If I said yes, would you hold it against me?” E.J. asked.

Herc shook his head. “No. Did you want to head to your place now?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

It didn’t take Herc’s driver to take them to E.J.’s apartment. “Don’t judge me for the furnishings or the décor; it came this way and I haven’t cared much since I don’t entertain here,” E.J. said apologetically as Herc stood in her living room. “I’ll be about fifteen minutes.”

“Take your time,” Herc advised as she headed for the bedroom, and decided against trying to sit down on the tiny loveseat. His phone buzzed with an incoming text as soon as E.J. shut the bedroom door.

_Where the fuck are you?_ Chuck wrote. 

_E.J.’s apartment,_ Herc wrote back. _Thought I’d bring her to family dinner, introduce her to everyone at once._

_Ah. Just got this weird feeling from you and wasn’t sure what was going on._

Herc grinned and decided to snap a photo of the loveseat and send it to his son. _This loveseat is why the weird feeling,_ he captioned it.

A moment later, Chuck called him. “That’s not a loveseat, old man. That’s a Victorian torture device.”

Herc laughed. “Now that we’ve clarified that, was there anything else you needed?”

“We’ve never done a receiving line at one of these, right?”

“Quit letting Mako pull your leg.”

“Damn it, she did the serious face again,” Chuck complained, and he heard Raleigh’s laughter.

“If anyone shows up to dinner with bruises from the kwoon, I will not be happy,” Herc cautioned firmly.

“Yes, sir,” Chuck snapped. “I’ll just hide the tea.” 

“No, you won’t, not today. Do not make me ask Richie to sit on you.”

Chuck grumbled and said, “Fine, I’ll behave. But someone ought to –”

“Finish that sentence with ‘restrain their copilots’ or something similar and I will guarantee Raleigh will make you regret it. Do not fuck up the good thing you got with stupid words and petty revenge.”

Chuck made a grumbling noise. “I hate it when you’re right. When will you be back?”

Herc glanced at his watch. “Half an hour give or take.”

“I’ll see you when you get back.” Without waiting for a reply, Chuck disconnected the line, leaving Herc to shake his head.

E.J. emerged from the bedroom wearing a swing skirt with a paisley and swirl print, a ruby wrap top, sheer stockings, and black flats. She’d added the ruby teardrop necklace Herc remembered her wearing the first time they’d met. Her long black hair was now partially French braided, giving her a more put-together look. For a moment, Herc was reminded of the way Angela had always pulled her brown hair into a double French braid before leaving for work, making Herc relish the evenings when he could help her take it apart and massage her scalp. Breathing carefully past the sudden surge of grief, Herc focused on the woman before him.

“So, Marshal, do you think I pass inspection for your family dinner?” E.J. asked lightly.

Needing to ground himself in the now, Herc closed the distance between them and kissed her as sweetly as he could. “Now you do,” he teased her gently.

E.J. giggled. “If that’s the way you prefer,” she said. “Is there anything else I need to bring?”

“I know it might be forward of me, but I was hoping you’d stay tonight as well. If you say yes, then you’ll be granted an access badge as well.”

E.J. smiled. “No. Let me just grab my overnight bag.”

Herc nodded, and was surprised when she pulled out a small duffel bag from one of the cabinets in the tiny kitchen, already packed.

“You do this a lot?” he asked dryly. 

“Leftover habit from being in the service,” E.J. said with a shrug. “Sometimes I’m required to do site visits in remote areas, and it’s just easier to have a bag packed than not.”

“Understood,” Herc said.

She made a quick check of the contents, clearly making sure everything was where it should be, and then transferred her new phone into its case before sticking it into her purse. “Ready.”


	15. Chapter 15

Herc waited for E.J. to take in the Shatterdome lobby’s grand architecture before bringing her to the front desk, where Jeremy sat; from the empty chair beside him, Herc surmised that the weekend receptionist had already left for the day. 

“Jeremy, this is E.J. Seiler. E.J., this is my chief of security, Jeremy Livojević.”

Jeremy rose and shook her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Seiler. If you could just sign in on that sheet there – thank you. I’ll also need you to sign on this screen, acknowledging receipt of this access badge I’m handing you.” After some debate, Herc had decided not to hand her the badge in a public setting, but bring her back so that the documentation could be completed in a secure location. This way, her photo could be added to the badge.

E.J. took the tablet and stylus Jeremy handed her and scrawled her signature before handing it back.

“Just need a quick photo, Ms. Seiler,” Jeremy said, and then arranged her so she was in the right position.

“Now I’m really glad I changed,” E.J. murmured as she waited for the cue to smile. After Jeremy took the photo, they waited for him to print the green-rimmed badge. “So what does this give me?”

“Access to my quarters, the mess hall, the media room, and Medical,” Herc told her. “Anywhere else, you’ll need an escort.”

E.J. clipped the freshly minted badge to her skirt and thanked Jeremy. “If I could just have you swipe first, then wait for the marshal on the other side of the door, that will let me know you’re in the system?” Jeremy requested.

E.J. followed instructions, then waited for Herc to join her. “I feel like you’ve given me the key to your house and this is only our third date.”

“If this is too much too soon –”

“Herc. If it ever is, you’ll be the first to know. I’m known for making nervous observations.”

Herc grinned. “Then let’s head over to my quarters first, and drop your bags off.”

A few minutes later, he found a note on his quarters that said, “Stinky dog is stinky. Use room one door to the left, same key code.”

“Problem?” E.J. asked.

“Max, our bulldog, is getting old,” Herc said easily. “He’s more prone to passing gas than he used to be. Don’t think you really want to smell that tonight.”

“Prefer not to,” E.J. said.

Herc followed directions and opened the door to a room he knew had been empty, but had always been earmarked for when he moved into his own suite, so while the furniture had been moved into the room, nothing else had been moved. Stepping inside, however, he saw that it had been swept, dusted, and mopped; every surface gleamed. The queen-sized bed with a simple wooden headboard had been made with PPDC linen, and a quick check of the bathroom revealed it had been stocked with two sets of towels. All of his clothes were neatly hung in the closet and stashed in the drawers; it was as if he’d always lived here.

“Wow, this looks more like a decent hotel room than some hotel rooms I’ve been in,” E.J. exclaimed as she set her bags down on the two-person table near the kitchenette. A loveseat and coffee table in front of a wall-mounted TV constituted the living room; it replaced the usual desk-and-chair combo, since Herc had been adamant that if he were to work, it would be in his office, not his quarters.

“Permanent quarters,” Herc explained. “The temporary ones aren’t nearly as nice.”

E.J. nodded her understanding before moving to stand in front of Herc. “So how much time do we have for me to take the grand tour? Because I’d very much like to kiss you.”

Herc glanced at his watch. “Depends. Do you care to see the jaegers?”

E.J. stepped closer and put her hands on his hips. “No, I’d like to be an idiot who dates the marshal of the PPDC without ever checking out the jaegers,” she said tartly. “What kind of brainless wench do you think I am, Marshal Hansen?”

Laughing, Herc replied, “Oh, just some pretty sheila I picked up in a phone store,” and kissed her before she could protest.

Passion, slow and sweet, curled through him as she opened her mouth to reciprocate his kisses. She pressed her body into his and slid her hands from his hips to his back, clearly unwilling to stop. He breathed in the faint perfume she wore – vanilla and something sweetly floral, maybe a scented soap, and gave in to the urge to press closer and deepen the kiss. 

The timer in his head, though, was running, and with great reluctance, he pulled back. For a moment, he enjoyed the sight of E.J. flushed with desire. She breathed in carefully and opened her eyes. “Time for the grand tour?”

Herc nodded. “Unless you want to be scandalous…?”

E.J. laughed. “Not tonight.”

“Your purse and phone are safe here,” Herc told her.

“Do you jam the signal of anything that’s not PPDC issue?” E.J. wondered.

“Yes,” Herc said.

E.J. considered it for a moment and shrugged. “Understandable, but I’d like to set up some way for my family to get a hold of me when I’m here if there’s an emergency.”

“I’ll give you the backline number,” Herc assured her, “and the lobby isn’t blocked for calls.”

E.J. accepted the qualifier with a nod. “Did you ever invite the media to family dinner?”

“Never, but they heard about it and wanted in, so Dylan staged one for their benefit. We all agreed never again. Quietest, most respectful family dinner I’ve ever attended, and that includes the ones with my in-laws, where I had to bite my tongue all the time because they thought the military was a useless expense.” Herc opened the door and waited for E.J. to step out into the hallway before shutting it firmly behind himself.

“I don’t understand people like that. What kind of defense do they want? Pitchforks and scythes?” 

“If you studied Japanese or Chinese history, you’ll know those were damned effective.”

E.J. laughed. “Maybe for the short-term uprising, but you’ll never convince me it would’ve worked against the kaiju.”

“My point precisely.”

“Will Dylan be at dinner tonight?”

“Yes. Family dinner is for the senior staff and the jaeger pilots and whoever else they want to invite in, be it friends from the crew or someone from outside, as long as it’s not a member of the press. Hu keeps threatening to invite one so they can stop harassing him on his progress.”

“Will he actually go through with that?”

Herc shook his head. “No. It’s just exhausting for him some days because he’s local.”

E.J. nodded. “So what’s his prognosis?”

“His legs were crushed, so he won’t walk again without some kind of assistance, and he’s a brilliant engineer, so I won’t be surprised if he engineers himself some way to do just that. I tend not to like to use words like paralyzed or disabled or even mobility challenged when it comes to someone like Hu; they don’t fit.”

E.J. smiled. “So what do you use?”

“Hu prefers ‘jaeger-damaged.’”

E.J.’s smile widened. “That fits really well, considering how he was hurt. Back to Dylan, though – I remember seeing her on TV once. Took me a minute to realize they’d put her up on a box because of her height, but I always thought she didn’t really need it.”

“Yeah, she always complained that all of us jaeger pilots were impossibly tall people. None of the Sydney jaeger pilots were shorter than a meter and a half.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting her,” E.J. said. “I’ve always been inspired by women in leadership roles, especially military or paramilitary ones.”

Herc nodded. “Understandable. I’ll make sure you get introduced. She worked for one of the big paramilitary contractors before she became a part of the PPDC.”

“Does she mind being your deputy rather than a full marshal?” E.J. wondered.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Herc said. “If she ever wanted the job…not sure I’d let her have it. I like knowing that if I needed to, she could run the whole shebang for me, but this way, she gets some of that final responsibility transferred to someone else: me. She sent out the last two jaeger teams that were killed by kaiju before Mutavore hit Sydney.”

“I can see where that would make someone not want to have the same role again,” E.J. said after a moment.

Herc led E.J. through the Shatterdome, giving her the tour that was often given to the TV press, who’d turn around and crow about ‘a special extended, exclusive tour’ to their viewers. In reality, it was nothing more than ‘here are the quarters for the jaeger pilots and crew, the kwoon, the mess hall, and the jaegers.’ The public tour, back when such things were an option, skipped the quarters in favor of a special static display of a sample room and switched out the jaeger viewing platform for an interactive display of sample parts. Since Hong Kong had been built first, those rooms had been cannibalized for parts in the last years of the war. Herc opted to switch up the order of the tour, taking E.J. to the viewing platform for the jaegers so she’d see that just before the mess hall.

“Wow,” E.J. said, taking in Emerald Star and Sentinel Falcon. Both jaegers had been built on a brawler’s frame. The result was a blending of Gipsy Danger and Striker Eureka, with some significant upgrades that weren't visible to the naked eye, like EMP shielding, better underwater tolerances, and the ability to fire more weapons underwater. Emerald Star had been painted a deep green with blue accents; Sentinel Falcon, blue with white and green. Both had been outfitted with chain swords, plasma cannons, and could be re-rigged with special adaptive devices for heavy lifting and the like.

“What do you think?”

“They’re beautiful. I’ve never been this close to one.”

Herc glanced at her. “Made it to a shelter every time?”

“Not always, but –” she shrugged “- I always made sure I kept my head down and never went running screaming into the street, doing things to attract attention.”

He felt the warning of another immortal, laced with amusement, and knew his son was approaching. He glanced over his right to see Chuck walking up, Max trotting beside him.

At the sound of footsteps, E.J. turned, and smiled. Meeting Chuck halfway, she said, “I’m E.J. Seiler; you must be Chuck,” and offered her hand for Chuck to shake.

Chuck shook it, looking pleased that she’d made the effort. “Yes. This is Max.” He gestured to the bulldog, who looked at E.J. hopefully.

“So whose idea was it to make him a part of the logo on your jaeger?” E.J. asked.

“His,” Chuck said with a jerk of his head towards his father. “He took a drawing I made, back when they were discussing what to put on Lucky Seven.”

“How’s he with being petted by strangers?” E.J. asked.

Chuck grinned. “Good, but he’s liable to slobber. Pretty girls get him all worked up.”

E.J. laughed. “Rain check for after dinner, then? I usually don’t mind getting dirty, but I’d like to stay presentable for at least a while longer.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Chuck promised, and started walking with them to the mess hall. Herc glanced at his son, wondering why he was pouring on the charm. Normally, Chuck hung back and waited to see how someone would react to him. “This the first time you’ve ever been in a Shatterdome?”

“Never had a reason to go into one before,” E.J. admitted. “I did meet with the deputy marshal – Mr. Hatakeyama – once, but it was at the Asian Development Bank’s office. I was surprised to learn he’d left.”

“A lot of people did,” Herc interjected. “We had to let people go, and not everyone wanted to stay until the end. Being here wasn’t always seen as the safest place.”

“I got the impression that he was frustrated,” E.J. remembered. “And not happy.”

“None of us were,” Chuck told her. “We knew the kaiju weren’t going to stop just because a wall was being built. I thought it was a stupid idea – we needed more jaegers and better pilots, not some crappy wall built by the lowest bidder.”

“Did you ever want to be something other than a jaeger pilot, Chuck?” E.J. asked.

Chuck laughed and shot his father a look. “A helicopter pilot. I always wanted to be like my old man.”

E.J. smiled. “And now?”

“Now, I want to be sure I didn’t spend half my life for nothing,” Chuck told her. “Might not be the most glamorous job now, since we’re focused on search and rescue and helping with salvage and reconstruction, but we still need pilots who want to do this because it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re not worried about the kaiju?”

“Sure I am, but my job’s to make sure if they come back, the new group of pilots can kill them as good or better than me.” Chuck smiled at her. “I leave the prediction of when to the scientists and hope it’s never in my lifetime. And no, I’m not on my best behavior today because you’re here, in case you’re wondering.”

E.J. laughed. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m only an arrogant asshole on TV,” Chuck said blandly.

E.J. laughed harder. “Uh huh, and you didn’t just say that to see how I’d do.”

Chuck shrugged unrepentantly. “I’m my father’s son, sans filters. Or so I’ve been told.” He studied her a moment. “Your braid reminds me of the way my mom used to do her hair. She always liked it when my old man gave her head massages.”

Herc knew that was a deliberate statement, designed to provoke a reaction, and now he understood why Chuck had decided to be charming. E.J. took the unsubtle jab in stride. “I’ll have to keep that in mind,” E.J. murmured. “You remember her?”

“Not like I could forget,” Chuck said now. “Spent most my life meeting him –” he jerked a thumb at Herc “– in the Drift on memories of her.”

“Do you have a favorite?” E.J. asked.

Startled, Chuck took a moment to study her again. His lips curved in a genuine smile. “Her making sure I had my helmet and motorcycle gear on properly, and not letting me out of the garage until she was sure. It was the weekend before Trespasser hit. I was getting impatient, so the old man kissed her while I got away.”

E.J. grinned and looked at Herc. “Thought parents weren’t supposed to be aiding and abetting their children.”

Herc shrugged. “Never claimed to be a perfect father.” He looked at his son. “Everyone waiting on us?

Chuck nodded.

Herc took E.J.’s hand and led the way into the mess hall. “Listen up, everyone!” Herc called. “This is E.J. Seiler; she’s my guest tonight. Everyone, say hello to E.J.”

“Hello!” the group chorused as one, making E.J. grin. She saw that the tables had been pushed together to form one long table, with platters of food all along the middle.

“I’ll introduce you to everyone personally later,” Herc told her, “but let’s sit down, get something on our plates, and I’ll start with the folks next to you.”

Dylan had designed ‘family dinner’ so that whoever sat at the head of the table was on a rotation – and it would be that person’s family who’d be honored. Tonight, Curtis Mason, one of the new jaeger pilots, had that privilege – and since jaeger pilots never did anything without their copilots, Võ Chuyên shared it with him. The resultant feast was a mix of British and Vietnamese food, and revealed the cooks’ ability to source ingredients and create delicious meals. 

Herc made quick work of the introductions, and whatever fears he might’ve had about E.J.’s ability to get along with his friends and coworkers quickly dissipated. Like all family dinners in the Shatterdome, conversation was free-flowing, raucous, involved everyone at some point, and multilingual. E.J. was overwhelmed at first, but recovered quickly. By the time dinner was over, Herc was certain he was in love with this engaging, quick-witted, charming, and articulate woman. It didn’t escape his notice, though, that E.J. was quieter when they returned to his new quarters. 

“Something on your mind?” Herc asked as he shut the door.

E.J. took a moment to answer. “Even the new jaeger pilots know what they have here, what you’ve created,” she marveled. “You made a family out of strangers, Herc.”

Herc shrugged. “You fight better when it’s family. You’re ex-military; you know that.”

E.J. nodded. “Just wasn’t expecting them to just open up the expanding table and slot me in like I belonged. Especially not from your son.” She eyed Herc. “He’s not who I expected, based on the interviews I’ve seen. I always thought he was a lot of arrogance and bragging, but he has a lot to say that’s valid.”

Herc grinned. “He’s done a lot of growing up since we closed the Breach. Still got a ways to go, but,” Herc shrugged, “he has incentive now, just like I did when I was his age. You seem surprised he accepted you.”

E.J. laughed softly. “Just had this picture in my head of someone –” she stopped herself.

Herc stepped closer and drew E.J. into a loose embrace. “Someone who would spend the entire evening reminding you that his mother was a saint.”

E.J. looked up at Herc. “Something like that.”

Herc laughed. “She had a bad tendency to dig her heels in when she thought she was right about something; Chuck got that from her, but like her, he’s quick to change his mind if he’s proven wrong. Chuck pushes to see where you’ll push back. You didn’t push back; you rerouted him,” Herc noted. “And he knows he can’t push too hard where you’re concerned, because if he does, then I get to push him on his relationship with Raleigh.”

E.J. blinked. “I could’ve sworn Raleigh and Mako were together!”

“They’re copilots; to say they’re best friends is an understatement. Most people don’t understand that being a jaeger pilot means you’re stepping into someone else’s brain, someone else’s soul, and you’re doing it under battle conditions to save the world. That’s intense. If Chuck and I ever Drift again, we’d be curling up like cats, too, same way Raleigh and Mako do.”

“All those interviews you pilots did…the little tricks you could do that showed your synchronicity and compatibility – they weren’t tricks, were they?” E.J. asked. “They were side effects.”

Herc nodded, appreciating her quick mind. “Sometimes the Drift was the only way I could get my son to see that I loved him and was proud of him; the words would stick in my throat when I should’ve said them. Or he would be a stubborn ass and not want to hear them otherwise. But all the years we spent in each other’s heads left us with a permanent awareness of each other; I’ll always know what he’s feeling and vice versa.”

E.J. was quiet a moment. “So all those people who think you shouldn’t have copiloted a jaeger with your son don’t understand how close you two really are.”

Herc nodded again.

E.J. shook her head slowly. “Were you trying to live up to your name, Hercules?”

Herc grinned. “No, but if you’re going to commit to an action, you should see it through.” 

E.J. smiled at that. “I used to think you were brave for going out there and fighting the kaiju, but it was never about bravery, was it?”

Herc shook his head. “I did it because I could and it was the right thing to do.”

“From anyone else, that would sound hokey,” E.J. noted. “You make it sound natural.”

Shrugging, Herc told her, “Shouldn’t it be that simple? As Stacker was fond of telling Mako, vengeance is an open wound. You have to have other reasons for doing your job, else you’re going to fuck it up somehow.”

“True,” E.J. said with a nod. “Dylan is very fond of you. The new pilots act like she’s Mom.”

“One of her strengths.”

“I see where that would make it hard to want to be the one with final responsibility again. Is Newt that unaware no one really wants to discuss kaiju biology over dinner or just that frustrated no one does?”

“You were new; everyone else has told him what they think. We make some allowances because he was right about the kaiju.”

“Ah, so it’s his measuring stick.”

Herc nodded. “You handled him well; I don’t think he was expecting you to counter with asking him if he’d like a detailed description of how to slaughter a goat. He would’ve said yes if Dr. Gottleib hadn’t silenced him.”

E.J. smiled. “They make a very interesting pair. Mako is blunter than I expected.”

Herc laughed. “She’s lethal that way.”

“And your jaeger crew chief, Richie – I loved his answer to my question of whether he’s related to you: ‘only on Thursdays.’ What’s so big about Thursday?”

“That’s when his weekly report is due to me. He’s been a part of my crew so long, he might as well be related,” Herc chuckled. “Enjoyed dinner?”

“More than I was expecting to, yes. Thank you for the invitation.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned in to kiss her, giving her plenty of time to pull back.

She stepped closer and met him halfway.

Long, slow kisses later, Herc told her, “Want to make love to you. Any objections?”

“Only that we’re not yet naked,” she told him with a smile, and pressed against him. “Also, I can’t put much weight on my left arm.”

Herc kissed away the apology he heard in her voice for admitting a weakness. “We all have our scars, E.J.,” he told her. “Not all of them are as visible.” He paused before adding, “Is there anything you won’t let me do with you in bed?”

“Never been much for blindfolds or bondage,” E.J. admitted. “And I’ll warn you that I don’t get much pleasure out of my nipples.”

“Then I won’t bore you by playing with them,” Herc assured her.

“What about you?” E.J. asked.

Herc grinned. “I like having my nipples licked and played with; pretty much I’m an open kind of guy. Blindfolds can be fun, but I’m with you on the bondage – not my thing either.”

She smiled at that and let Herc assist her with undressing. Herc was careful to set her clothes in a neat pile on the table before he quickly dispensed with his own clothing. While she waited for him, E.J. pushed back the bedcovers and climbed on the bed.

“If I’d known you wore such skimpy underwear,” E.J. began, then shook her head as Herc tossed the subject article onto the floor.

“What? It’s because circuitry suits mean you’re not wearing much,” Herc offered. He paused to put on a condom, taking one from his wallet. Given he’d sired Chuck, Herc didn’t trust that his immortality meant he was infertile.

“No need to apologize,” E.J. said with a laugh, rising to her knees to meet him as he joined her on the bed. “I’m just leering, don’t mind me.”

Herc arched an eyebrow. “Mind? Why would I?” He kissed her, deepening the contact because he could. “And before we get too far, if you tell me to stop, E.J., I will. Green for go, red for stop, just so I don’t get confused, okay?”

“All lights are green,” E.J. told him, a smile in her voice. 

Maybe because it was their first time together, but Herc wanted to go slowly, savor this woman who’d captured his heart. E.J. seemed of the same mind, and the slide into heat from gentle passion felt like stepping off the edge of a jaeger bay into the harbor – expected and yet still jarring, no matter how many times Herc had done it previously. Pushing her gently to her back, Herc began to explore her body, which was littered with small scars – nothing major, but the kind Herc knew meant she’d seen front line combat. Reminding himself that she’d survived, he focused on paying attention to what made her arch and gasp. A lick underneath her breasts produced an intriguing inhale of breath; a nibble across her hipbone made her arch.

E.J. pressed gently on his head, urging him further south, and he took the cue. He savored her unique flavor and taste, drank in E.J.’s gasps, reveled in the way she arched into the intimate contact and used her right hand to grip his forearm, signaling she’d had enough.

Understanding, Herc lifted his head. “Green or red?”

“Want you in me, please,” E.J. said breathlessly. “I get sensitive there fast.”

Herc grinned and repositioned himself. Mindful of his girth and size, he went slowly, but she was so ready for him. Groaning, he slid into her, then froze, watching to see if he’d gone too far.

“Don’t stop, green, go, want more,” E.J. panted.

“As you wish,” Herc told her. It wasn’t long before he was enjoying the way her inner muscles gripped his cock as her hips rose to meet his thrusts. Feeling his own orgasm begin to peak, he increased his pace. She cried out something he barely heard over the rush of blood in his ears; it sounded like his name, and he shuddered once, twice, then came.

Breathing hard, he stayed where he was for a moment before reaching between them to grasp the condom and pulling out of her body. “Be right back,” he promised her, and staggered off to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

He found E.J. right where he’d left her, and eased carefully onto the bed to cuddle her close.

She surged up to kiss him before leaning back with a tired groan. “Please tell me you’re not one of those o-god-early people.”

“Depends on your definition of o-god-early,” Herc qualified.

“As in anytime before and including reveille.”

“Then yes, I’m one of those. Sleeping in for me is 0700.”

E.J. looked at him. “Would you mind terribly if I slept in?”

Herc kissed her. “No. I’ll try not to wake you, but if you do wake and I’m not here, just touch the computer and ask to page me. Mess hall’s open most of the day; the cooks will make you something to eat and there’s always coffee and tea. Sundays are usually a quiet day here. If you want to head back to your place, just let me know.”

E.J. nodded. “Thanks.”

“Want some help undoing that braid? Can’t be comfortable.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I slept in it.”

“No, but why should you?” Herc asked practically as E.J. rearranged herself so Herc could undo the braid. “And since you don’t know the layout of this room in the dark, there’s a small flashlight on the nightstand; should be just bright enough to help you see. The bathroom door’s a slider and there is an extra set of towels.”

“You were really hoping I’d show up.”

“Hoping, yes. My son’s the one who moved me; we’ve been sharing a room since he was twelve.”

E.J. jerked slightly at that. “This wasn’t always your room?”

“No, but it’s the one I picked out to be.” Herc undid E.J.’s hair and made quick work of removing the pins she’d placed to hold the partial up-do in place. “Chuck probably just took advantage of Max’s condition to clean the room and restock everything. If he got the other jaeger pilots to help him, they could’ve probably had it ready in less than a half hour. Wouldn’t surprise me if the mini-fridge is stocked, too.”

E.J. whistled softly as Herc set the hairpins and the coated rubber band she’d used on the nightstand. “So why didn’t he or you move out sooner?” She started to purr as Herc massaged her scalp.

“He wasn’t ready and both of us aren’t used to sleeping without someone else in the room, so it was just as easy not to. He can’t always spend the night with Raleigh, either.”

“Mm, why not?”

“Raleigh has PTSD,” Herc said carefully. “Tends to make him roam the halls at night rather than sleep, which drives Chuck crazy because it’s nothing he can fix.”

E.J. turned her head to stare at Herc. “How the hell did that happen? I thought you tested everyone to make sure they were okay.”

Herc nodded. “We do. Raleigh’s just…unique among us. I can’t give you the details without Raleigh’s permission.”

E.J. processed this statement a moment before stating, "Then I don't need to know tonight. Is the shower big enough for the two of us?"

"We can find out," Herc told her, grinning.


	16. Chapter 16

Down the hall, Chuck cuddled Raleigh while Max lay on the floor near the linen chest, snoring lightly. Both men were naked, not really working up to anything, but not being chaste, either. 

“I like E.J.,” Raleigh announced, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Yeah?” Chuck lifted his head, hearing a ‘but’ somewhere in there.

“I couldn’t date anyone who didn’t know about the Drift,” Raleigh mused. “Have sex with them, yeah, but not date. How is Herc going to explain immortality to her?”

“Dunno. Think she can handle it?”

“Might,” Raleigh said with a shrug. “She’s seen combat. From what I’ve heard, the US Army doesn’t teach you Arabic and then puts you in a safe zone.” He rolled to his side, rearranging them both in the process, and looked at Chuck. “You okay with your dad being in love with someone?”

“Long as they don’t rip his heart out and stomp on it,” Chuck admitted. “Much as I want to believe my parents had the perfect marriage, I know they didn’t. I saw enough of that in the Drift. Mom hated how much my old man was gone on duty, even if the combat pay provided the extra money we needed. She didn’t make a lot of money as a medical assistant, but the hours were steady. They argued a lot about money; Mom wanted Dad to retire and work for one of those tourist tour outfits, something that would still allow him to fly but be home at a decent hour without the risk of him being flown across the world for combat.”

“Were you alone after school?”

Chuck’s mouth tightened at the memory. “Not usually. Uncle Scott worked for one of the big car dealerships as a mechanic, and he’d work the early shift so he could come pick me up and make sure I did my homework. Mom would be home around 1830; Dad would get home around 1900 if he was just working on base. I thought Scott was the best uncle ever until he joined the PPDC because he took care of me anytime my parents couldn’t.”

“So he was a good guy once.”

“Yeah.” Chuck was quiet a moment. “He told the PPDC recruiter he wanted to kill kaiju so I wouldn’t have to and that he didn’t want his brother to do it alone.” Chuck rose up on an elbow to look at Raleigh. “Richie told me that some people have holes that nothing can ever fill – not fame, not drugs, not sex – and that’s why Scott’s the way he is.”

“Couldn’t have been easy,” Raleigh mused. “I used to think Yancy had it all together, that he was better at planning than me. Saw the way Scott looked at Herc, like he was jealous of something he never could have.” Raleigh shook his head. “I was that kind of mad and jealous once with my brother – but I learned my lesson and we never got that way again.”

Chuck considered that information a moment. “Is it hard to talk about your brother?” he asked carefully.

Raleigh leaned over and kissed Chuck. “Especially when we’re both naked and could be doing other things.”

Willing to let the subject drop, Chuck arched an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“You said something about wanting to suck me off?”

“What, no preamble, no kisses?” Chuck teased, hearing the edge of nerves in Raleigh’s usually calm voice.

“Oh, there are kisses?” Raleigh asked, startled, as if he hadn’t considered that an option.

“First he tells me he’s not been kissed enough and then thinks I’m gonna skip them altogether,” Chuck mock-complained.

Raleigh laughed softly. “Okay, so maybe I was thinking you wouldn’t –”

Chuck kissed him silent, then demonstrated just what he would do if given permission. He was rewarded for his efforts with a verbose spew of breathless encouragement and moans. When he was done swallowing, Raleigh said, “You’re doing that again, soon as I recover. You want my hands on you now?”

“Your hands, your mouth, your body….” Chuck let his voice trail off as he watched his lover’s eyes darken with desire.

“Show me how to take you,” Raleigh said, a little challengingly.

“You sure?” Chuck asked, aware it was one thing to get oral sex from another man, quite another for anal sex.

“Been thinking about it all day,” Raleigh confessed. “Don’t want you missing out. Did a little research, too. You, uh, have to prepare me?”

Chuck kissed him. “We don’t have to have sex that way. Not all gay guys do.”

“No,” Raleigh agreed, “but –” He breathed carefully. “Want this.”

Chuck took in the tense set of Raleigh’s shoulders and knew he was braced for the pain of penetration. No way Chuck was going to push, not when it had the potential of blowing up everything. Even if Chuck was careful, he didn’t want Raleigh to freak out if he’d subconsciously accepted any homophobic reactions. “Tomorrow,” Chuck said firmly. “And we start with toys, get you used to it.”

“Chuck –”

“No,” Chuck said. He remembered his first experience; it had very nearly turned him off, as the prep had been too hasty, the pain a little too much. “Want you to enjoy it. You’re too nervous now. Besides, it’s more fun if we work up to the real thing.” He kissed Raleigh slowly and guided Raleigh’s hands to his cock. “Just stroke me, love.”

“If that’s all you want,” Raleigh said dubiously.

“Tonight, yes,” Chuck said, and put his hands over Raleigh’s to emphasize the point. 

After they’d cleaned up and dressed in what they wore to sleep in, Chuck turned to his lover. “Who put the idea in your head that you have to get fucked?”

Raleigh looked at him, confused. “Isn’t that part of it? I mean, if I was a woman, we’d be doing that.”

“Yeah, and my answer would be the same,” Chuck returned evenly. 

“Huh,” Raleigh said. “Never thought of it that way.”

“Most guys don’t. I just…” Chuck blew out a breath. “Scott was bisexual and not picky. He got mean and crude about telling me about sex. Sex was all about Scott getting off, which didn’t match up in my head to what Dad was telling me about love and romance, so I wound up having to have Richie explain it to me because there was no way I was going to my old man.”

“Why not?”

“Would you go to a man who’s only been with women for advice on bisexuality and gay sexuality?”

Raleigh shook his head. “No, probably not. Wait, Richie’s bi?”

Chuck took note of the surprise in Raleigh’s voice. “You were expecting something else?”

“No, I mean, ah fuck, this is going to come out wrong. I thought he was just gay.”

Now it was Chuck’s turn to stare at Raleigh. “He flirted with you?”

“When we were putting this bed together. When I told him I didn’t swing that way, he dropped it. I always got the sense he was just looking for someone for a fun evening or two, and since I’d said no, he wasn’t offended or brokenhearted about it. I took it as a compliment that he found me attractive.” Raleigh shrugged awkwardly. “It was good to know that someone didn’t think I was too broken for that at least.”

“Not broken, jaeger-damaged,” Chuck said firmly, kissing him. “And I can’t fault Richie’s taste.” Chuck hesitated before adding, “I’d like to go on a proper date with you, get out of the ‘dome. You up to doing that?”

“Trying to treat me all proper?” Raleigh teased. 

“Something wrong with that?” Chuck bristled.

“No, just…been a while. And…” Raleigh took a deep breath. “Not sure I’m ready for the press to descend on us. Not that I care what they’ll say so much as they’ll already be laser-focused on us as the PPDC. If we add in us dating, there’ll be a feeding frenzy.” Raleigh took another breath. “Let the marshal and E.J. have the spotlight, see if E.J. can handle it. Maybe…maybe in a few months, when we’re past the holidays and the anniversary?”

“Of course.” Chuck kissed him and drew him in close to cuddle him. “It’s not because you’re ashamed to be seen with me?”

“Hell no. It’s more…” Raleigh chuckled ruefully. “If I’m going to be accused of being a cocksucker and liking your dick up my ass, I’d like for it to be truth rather than fantasy. That way, I can look that idiot reporter in the eye and be proud of what I’m doing, know that you’re happy with me doing those things.” He looked at Chuck and shrugged sheepishly. “Never liked being accused of something I’m not, as you know.”

“And what if I wanted you to fuck me, hmm?” Chuck asked. “Or we discover you don’t like sucking cock? They don’t have to know every detail, Raleigh, you know.”

“I know, but it helps me,” Raleigh insisted. “You know I have these checklists for stuff.”

Chuck kissed him. The checklists were coping mechanisms for Raleigh’s worst days; one of them was taped to Raleigh’s bathroom mirror and detailed what medications and actions he needed to take. “Then we need to put ‘everything is optional’ at the top,” he told his lover when he ended the kiss. “I’m in no hurry, love. You shouldn’t be, either. We’re not racing against a war clock now. If anyone thinks less of you for being with me, then they can fuck off. You closed the Breach; that’s all that should matter to them.”

Raleigh gave him a grateful smile and cuddled closer. Chuck reached for the light switch on the wall, neatly positioned between two slats of the headboard, and turned off the overhead lights before pulling the covers over both of them.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one night? Well, they're both relatively short compared to what I posted last night....

_November 3, 2026_

Dressed in the navy blue suit that had become the official PPDC dress uniform, Herc knocked on E.J.’s door. After a minute, she answered, looking completely unprepared to attend the Culture Day dinner. Her hair was a mess and she wore a thick robe over pajamas. “Sorry,” she croaked.

“Have you seen a doctor?”

She shook her head. “Too sick.” She started coughing, wincing as she did so.

Herc took in the way she looked as though she’d barely gotten any rest and decided she needed a break. He wasn’t too fond of the way she was breathing shallowly, either. “You’re coming with me and seeing Grace. You sound awful.”

E.J. looked at him and said hoarsely, “I just need time.”

“And fluids and good rest without aching ribs and a throat that feels like you’re swallowing glass. I’ll apologize to the Japanese ambassador later. Now, we can do this the easy way, where I help you pack a bag so you can stay more than a night and you get the full benefit of Grace’s expert medical care while wearing clothes you prefer, or we leave now and I ask the quartermaster to outfit you in a selection of PPDC-issue t-shirts and pants.”

E.J. glared at him.

“Yes, I know I’m being an arrogant son of a bitch, but I don’t take the health of the people I care about lightly. Besides, Chuck had to get that arrogance from somewhere.”

She breathed carefully and led the way to her bedroom before pointing to the closet. Herc opened it to find a burgundy suitcase, which was empty. With E.J.’s help, he quickly packed it with enough clothes for a week, and then overrode her protests that she wasn’t dressed to go anywhere.

“Are you naked? No? Have my staff seen people wandering the halls of the ‘dome in PJs and a robe? Yes, because we all live there. We’re not spending any more time here. You look like you’re running on fumes as it is.”

E.J. acquiesced with ill grace, but Herc didn’t take offense. Taking her suitcase, he proceeded to assist her into his town car, telling her, “Just close your eyes, E.J.” Turning to the driver, he said, “Change of plans, Trevor. E.J.’s sick, so we’re not going to the dinner. Have Grace meet us in the motor pool; I think E.J.’s running a fever.”

“Of course, sir.” Trevor picked up his phone to notify the rest of the security team and arrange for Grace to meet them before putting the car in motion.

Herc spared a moment to call Mako to alert her so she wouldn’t be caught off guard by the questions; she and Raleigh were attending the Culture Day dinner. Next, Herc contacted the Japanese ambassador to let him know he wouldn’t be attending and why; the ambassador understood and assured him not to worry and take care of his girlfriend. Finally, Herc texted Chuck, aware his son was feeling his worry.

_E.J.’s sick so I’m bringing her home to see Grace and get well._

_**She put up a fight?** _

_Yes._

_**Good. You don't need a woman with no backbone.** _

Herc bit back the exasperated grin that text produced. E.J. leaned into his shoulder, clearly exhausted and coughing every so often. “I hate being a burden,” she complained.

“Who said you were?” Herc asked placidly. “Given your background, I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried every home remedy, hoping it would pass.”

E.J. nodded wearily.

The journey back to the Shatterdome took twenty minutes. Grace met them with a wheelchair and forestalled E.J.’s protest with, “Either this or I let Herc carry you to my clinic like I’m sure he wants to.”

E.J.’s look spoke volumes, but she settled in the chair with a minimum of fuss. It took Grace less than ten minutes to diagnose bronchitis, strep throat, pneumonia, and dehydration before being given a narcotic cough syrup, antibiotics, a saline drip, and put under a 24-hour in-patient observation to make sure she was properly medicated and hydrated.

“Don’t worry, E.J.; we’ll get you well,” Grace assured her.

E.J. rasped, “Wasn’t worried about that. Worried about what this will cost me later.”

“Nothing,” Herc said quickly. “Consider it a privilege of being my girlfriend, but a simple thank you when you’re well will suffice.”

E.J. looked at him skeptically, as if she wasn’t used to such generosity, but said nothing more.

Grace turned to Herc. “If you’d give me a hand, we’ll transfer E.J. to a patient care room and get her out of this triage room. You can leave her suitcase here for the moment; we’ll make sure it gets into the room.”

Remembering when his late wife had been sick with the same thing, Herc nodded. He helped carry E.J. into the bed in the room down the hall, noting that she’d nearly fallen asleep. “How long do you think it’ll take for her to recover?”

“Could be a week; could be two weeks; depends on her immune system. If she’s like most single people when they’re sick, she probably hasn’t eaten much of anything in the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours, so it might take her longer.” Grace gave Herc a reassuring smile. “We’ll take good care of her, get some nutrients in her body, and get her well. I’m putting a sedative in her IV so she sleeps, so it’ll be best if you came back in the morning.”

“Thank you, Grace.”

Grace smiled. “You’re welcome. Now go shoo and get some dinner.”

Herc snapped off a cheeky salute. “Yes, Doctor.”

Grace rolled her eyes but didn’t dignify his response any further.

Herc headed in the direction of his quarters, wanting to change into something more comfortable. After some discussion with Chuck, Herc had opted to stay in the more guest-friendly suite, giving Chuck their old quarters and thus the option to sleep alone on the nights Raleigh was restless. It quickly became apparent that they’d developed the habit of sharing clothes without asking the other for permission, and so Herc found himself in his old quarters, trying to figure out if Chuck had borrowed his favorite sweat pants or not.

The migraine rush of an approaching immortal, combined with Chuck’s emotions, was Herc’s only warning that his son had decided to enter. Herc glanced over his shoulder to see that Chuck was alone.

“How is she?” Chuck demanded without preamble.

“Bronchitis, strep, pneumonia, and dehydration,” Herc told him. “Grace didn’t say, but if my guess is that another day or two, E.J. would’ve been in serious trouble.”

Chuck winced. “Ouch. She live alone?”

Herc nodded. “One of those buildings where most of the neighbors are ex-pats or other foreigners with high-paying positions, so they’re not necessarily going to ask questions.”

“Good thing you two had a date, then. What are you looking for?”

“My sweat duds. I think you borrowed them.”

Chuck had the grace to look sheepish. “Raleigh pointed out that maybe you and I should just start over with our closets, since we’re too used to just grabbing whatever’s in the drawer. There’s another one in the bottom right drawer.”

“Thought you didn’t want me touching that drawer,” Herc said, giving his son a surprised look. “Figured you had your toys and porn there.”

“Used to,” Chuck admitted freely. “Moved them a few days ago to Raleigh’s room.”

Herc pulled a pair of sweat pants out of the drawer. “I see,” he said carefully. As much as he didn’t want to know the details of his son’s sex life, he’d gotten enough to know that his son had, after some experimentation, settled firmly on being gay. “You, ah, not rushing Raleigh into anything he’s not ready for? It’s only been two weeks.”

“Nothing more than usual. He knows about immortality now.”

“And?”

“And he did his usual stoic thing he does and I did the usual blind-ass thing I do where I run right over one of his buttons. He paid my disclosure back by having a nightmare about his brother being one of us but couldn’t tell anyone he was alive.”

Herc let out a breath. “That explains the odd looks he’s been giving me and Richie, like he’s trying to figure out how to ask something but isn’t sure how to ask it.” Herc paused. “What prompted you to tell?”

“Raleigh knows how hard he hits,” Chuck said quietly. “And he hit me hard enough that I should’ve had this wicked bruise on my shoulder, but I didn’t.” Chuck let out a breath. “And when he was working that massive waste of funding that should’ve gone to new jaegers and pilots, he said there was a guy taking bets that he’d survive any fall.”

“Well, we’re not rare, but we aren’t common, either. Stands to reason there’d be at least one of us trying to survive that way.”

“Seems like a fantastic way to call attention to yourself and get your head cut off, like that guy eventually did.” Chuck turned more serious. “Did you put Richie up to another sex talk?”

Herc shook his head. “No.”

Chuck grimaced. “Then you don’t know he decided to enlighten me on ways to take someone’s virginity.”

Herc stared at his son a moment before barking a laugh. “Sounds like he thought he might’ve been remiss in your education, considering he’s the one you went to with all the sex ed questions you didn’t want to ask me when you were thirteen. Was what he said worth it?”

“Maybe,” Chuck allowed. “Just…sheez. I’m not inexperienced. Wasn’t prepared for Richie to hand me a gift bag full of supplies. Premium stuff, too.”

Herc grinned, relieved to know that his old friend was still taking care of Chuck like he was his son. “He knows you can’t walk into a store and buy those things, even if it’s an open port and we’ve never made a secret that you’re gay. Did Richie also tell you he’s bringing in a friend of his to teach you more swordwork?”

“Some guy named Matthew Salisbury, used to be an English knight but wound up spending a lot of time in the American South, now doing law enforcement consulting for an international firm,” Chuck rattled off. “Yeah, so he’s basically a cop. Can’t see how that would help me much.”

“You might be surprised.”

“Don’t see how,” Chuck said, irritated. “I know the only one holding a sword out there is me.”

“It’s more than that,” Herc argued. “If something happened to me and I went after you, could you take my head?”

“No,” Chuck said without hesitation, and then stopped. “Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?”

“No, and that’s a problem,” Herc noted. “Who are you fighting for, Chuck? Why are you fighting? If it was against me, what reason would you have to win? Start thinking about that; Matthew will be here Saturday.”

Chuck nodded tightly. “In case I haven’t said it lately: the Game sucks ass. Have you eaten anything yet?”

“Figured we’d be nibbling on canapés and other stuff, so no,” Herc said as he quickly changed out of his suit.

“Want company while you eat? I wasn’t expecting you back until later, so I ate with Shannon and Shawn,” he said, referring the sole sibling pair among the new jaeger pilot teams.

“Thought you hated their Canadian accents.”

“I do, but they wanted my advice on how to separate themselves after a long Drift. We put them through a two-hour Drift with a typhoon, trying to locate a target.”

“How’d they do?”

“Second best. Curtis and Võ are kicking ass; Raleigh’s worried that they’re too intense.”

“So who’s the class clown?”

“Remy, without a doubt. He and Fai are doing better than Fai and Miguel ever did.”

“Do we still have a second pair of alternates?”

Chuck shook his head as they exited his quarters, then waited for Herc to put his suit away in his quarters before speaking. “Not yet. Not sure if we’ll need them. Shu, Park, Darin, and Natalia aren’t doing too shabby in their sims. Quint’s on standby, but I think he’s liking working for Richie more.”

Their talk over the new pilots’ fitness for duty lasted them through dinner. “Want to Drift with me, see if you like the way we set the jaegers up?”

Herc glanced at his son. “Long as we don’t spend too long. Who’s keeping an eye on us, since I’m sure you’ve already arranged this?”

“Victoria, Mako, and Raleigh. Fiacre’s finally back with us, too; Richie said he had to use Nick to find him and drag him home from France.”

“Saw his name on the roster of new hires,” Herc said. He’d missed Sydney’s LOCCENT chief, and had jumped on the chance to relieve some of Tendo’s burden by offering Fiacre the position of deputy LOCCENT chief. “Who’s the doc on watch?”

“Dr. Lavrova,” Chuck said. “It’s old home week tonight.”

“And what were you planning to do, hmm, if I wasn’t here?”

“See if Mako and I could Drift,” Chuck said shamelessly. “Closest thing I can get to Raleigh, after all.”

“Brat,” Herc told his son. He knew Mako would've run the calculations before she'd volunteered herself. “So what do you hope to get out of it now?”

“Just quit talking; you’ll see it in my head soon enough.”

Fifteen minutes later, Herc did. He’d forgotten, somehow, that it had been November 2, 2019, when Striker Eureka had been launched – or that Chuck did his best verbalization in a Drift.

<<Missed you, old man. Missed seeing you like this. Feels like forever since you and I last did this. Have you told E.J. you love her yet?>> Chuck said in the Drift.

<<Not yet. Brat, making all these people do all this for a conversation we could have aloud.>>

<<Not like this,>> Chuck insisted. <<Besides, when I tell Raleigh I love him, I need him to trust it like this. Needed to know how this felt so I can articulate it later.>>

<<Everything okay?>>

Herc felt Chuck’s sigh as if it was his own. <<Talking’s harder than it looks.>>

Herc laughed. “So it is. Go kiss Raleigh and leave me alone, all right? Fiacre, we’re done.”

Chuck glared at him, but didn’t fight the Drift termination sequence.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: repeated temporary death, in line with Highlander canon-level violence, in this chapter.
> 
> Also, I think 'kaiju a kill' should be a valid phrase, don't you?

By Saturday, E.J. was still sick, and proving to be an impatient patient. Herc found himself once again grateful to his executive assistant, Lily, who figured out who to call at E.J.’s work to let them know that E.J. was ill and would not be returning to work without a doctor’s clearance. Grace relented on keeping E.J. as an inpatient, so Herc was able to set her up in his quarters. For once, Herc ignored his work in favor of sleeping in so E.J. wouldn’t feel compelled to wake. He brought her breakfast in bed – nothing more than instant hot cereal and orange juice, stuff that was in the kitchenette’s pantry and mini-fridge – but he could tell she was touched by the gesture.

“Hate being sick,” E.J. rasped.

“So you’ve said, repeatedly, since Tuesday,” Herc reminded her gently. “Now, I have some training to do this morning, but I’ll be back by 1100. Fridge is stocked and I brought you your laptop as you requested yesterday. You’re set up with the guest wireless network, so you can look at the Internet. The tablet here is connected to the 'dome's switchboard, so you can call the mess hall or whomever. Dylan said she’d answer any call you make while I’m busy.”

E.J. sighed carefully. “Go; I know I’m probably making you late. I’m just crabby when I’m like this because I hate leaning on other people.”

“It isn’t leaning if you need the help,” Herc pointed out, and kissed her cheek. “Be back soon.”

Herc made his way to the kwoon, grateful he’d developed the habit of changing in one of the locker rooms so that E.J. didn’t question his duffel bag, which contained his sword. As he got closer, he felt the searing migraine of strong immortal presence, and had to breathe carefully to ease himself past the instinctive urge to freeze.

He found Richie with a broad-shouldered man with stubbornly curly brown hair. He had an oval-shaped face, a wide forehead, deep-set green eyes, a straight nose, a small mouth, and what looked like a case of perpetual stubble, even though it was still only 0730. He was the same height as Richie, but built broader. Standing next to Richie, who wore his usual faded blue sweat pants and white tank top, Herc thought the stranger was just more solid, somehow. 

Some instinct made Herc reach for his sword before he got close, and he kept his bag close in his hand as he approached.

That garnered him a small nod of appreciation from the stranger as Richie performed the introductions.

“Herc, this is Matthew Salisbury; Matthew, Hercules Hansen.”

Herc shook the other man’s hand, finding his grip strong but professional. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the other man drawled in an American Southern accent. “Thank you for kicking the kaiju back to their dimension.”

“Didn’t do it alone,” Herc told him, and stepped back. “Really appreciate you coming to help my son. He still thinks he’s a jaeger pilot, and it’s been almost two years.”

“So Richie said,” Matthew said with a nod. “Shall we spar while we wait for him to show?”

Herc didn’t bother with changing his clothes or answering verbally. Instead, he pulled out his sword, tossed his bag at Matthew, and waited for him to strike before continuing.

Matthew dodged the bag, then launched his attack. Within seconds, Herc knew he was fighting someone with a very long lifeline, but he didn’t let it disconcert him. He switched strategies, drawing upon his experience, and focused solely on fighting for his life. 

“What the bloody fuck?” Chuck demanded, and his white-hot fury, searing across their ghost drift, almost caused Herc to stumble.

Matthew pressed his advantage, but Herc was already off balance and couldn’t shift gears. Much to Herc's relief, Matthew backed off. Keeping his eyes on Herc, he bowed respectfully. “You don’t fight like I’d expected.” Glancing over at Richie, he said more loudly, “Good job.”

“I told you,” Richie said, sounding deeply insulted. “Why does everyone think I don’t train my students to live? Even Michelle knows what she needs to do to keep her head on her shoulders.”

Matthew looked at Chuck, who now stood sullenly next to Richie, then back at Herc. “You and your son…how connected are you?” he asked quietly, just loud enough for Herc to hear.

“We can feel each other’s emotions. I usually can shield against it, but I wasn’t expecting him to be furious that we were fighting as if we were serious. We, uh, we Drifted earlier this week.”

“Ah,” and the look Matthew gave Herc was full of apology. “Richie has you meditating?”

Herc nodded. “I’ll work on it more. Thank you for the spar, Matthew.”

Matthew grinned abruptly and clasped his shoulder firmly, a gesture that made Herc think of the way he and his fellow soldiers used to give reassurance to each other when they were all loaded down with combat gear. “You’re welcome. Gives me a baseline to see where your son is in comparison.”

“Chuck, come here and meet Matthew,” Herc commanded.

Chuck eyed them warily, but he picked up his sword and met them on the mat. “Looked like you wanted to kill my old man,” he told Matthew.

“Good, because that’s how I wanted him to react,” Matthew noted mildly. “He did well, by the way. Why are you assuming that if it’s a spar, it’s not to the death?”

Chuck froze. “Because it’s friendly?”

“Bzzt, wrong answer,” Matthew said. Pulling out a small knife Herc hadn’t realized he’d secreted in the waistband of his sweatpants, Matthew killed Chuck for the first time that morning. It wouldn’t be the last.

“What the hell?” Chuck asked as soon as he got to his feet.

“Wrong question.” Again, Chuck died.

“Fine, you asshole. We’ll play Twenty Questions.”

“No, it’s Twenty Answers. You give me twenty answers I like, and I stop killing you. You want to win the Game?”

“Fuck no.”

“See? No dying this time. But what would you do if you had to chose between killing Richie or your father?”

“Run like hell,” Chuck said distinctly.

“Wrong answer,” Matthew said. 

“Why?” Chuck demanded. “I thought running away was a valid option.”

“Not if you leave the greater evil to decide your fate. Why are you in the Game, Chuck?”

“Because I was born?” Chuck saw the look on Matthew’s face and knew he’d answered wrong. “Aw, fuck.”

Herc joined his teacher on the sidelines. “Think that would’ve worked?” he asked, sotto voce, as Matthew kept asking Chuck the tough questions and killing him until Chuck answered with the right answers.

“Not from us,” Richie said grimly. “We tried that, remember?”

“Yeah. So why’s my son starting to listen now, damn it?”

“Because he doesn’t know Matthew. You learned from me when you barely knew me.” 

“Feel like a drongo now. You did ask if I wanted Chuck to be taught by someone else.”

Richie shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, I thought he’d listen to me better than you. He usually does when it comes to stuff other than how to kill a kaiju.”

Watching his son get stabbed again, Herc rubbed his chest, wincing in sympathy. “Another twenty minutes of this and Chuck’s going to hate Matthew.”

Chuck lasted thirty before he held up a hand. “Okay, fine, you fucker, you got me, all right? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, is that what you want me to say?”

“Yes,” Matthew said simply, looking pleased. “Now, the question is, what are you going to about it? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve been ignoring the two people who’ve tried to teach you a lesson they’ve already learned and quite well.”

Chuck stopped and studied Matthew warily. “And?”

“And you have choices – follow the path they’ve so carefully laid out for you or step off it and do what you want to do.”

“I train jaeger pilots. What’s wrong with that?” Chuck demanded irritably.

“And what will you do with your life is when that suddenly isn’t an option?” Matthew demanded.

“Probably get depressed,” Chuck admitted candidly.

“And then what?”

“I don’t know!” Chuck snapped. “Not like I planned to be anything other than ‘like my dad’ or ‘better than my loser uncle.’”

“Anything you want to do?”

Chuck let out a slow breath. “Get a degree in mechanical engineering, but that’s a pipe dream.”

Matthew killed him again. Looking over at Herc, he asked, “Is it really?”

Herc shook his head. “If he wanted to go to college, I put money aside for it in case.”

“So did I,” Richie added.

That made Matthew chuckle. “ _Your_ son, Herc?”

“Richie raised him more than me, since I was out fighting kaiju and Richie was on my crew,” Herc admitted. “But he’s mine.”

Matthew nodded in understanding. He toed Chuck in the ribs, who was trying to play dead. “Up and at ‘em, boy. If nothing else, don’t disappoint your dad and Richie.”

“Story of my life,” Chuck grumbled, but he got up.

By the time Matthew concluded the intense training session, Herc had lost count of how many times his son had died. “We’ll be back at this tomorrow,” Matthew told Chuck. “Spend some time thinking about what you want and why you’re fighting. Because if all of your answers are ‘because my dad and Richie think I should,’ your head is already on the ground, boy, and the only reason you haven’t lost it before now is because you’ve been sheltered.”

Chuck glared at the more experienced immortal, but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t suppose I can ask if I can have some lunch after this morning?” Matthew inquired, looking at Herc.

“Lunch we can do,” Herc said gratefully. “I need to check on my girlfriend and see if she wants lunch, but Richie and Chuck can take you.”

Matthew looked at Herc, concerned. “Something wrong?”

“E.J. has strep, bronchitis, and pneumonia, and she’s not recuperating as fast as she’d like,” Herc explained. “Strong women never like to be perceived as weak.”

Matthew nodded knowingly. “Then don’t worry about me. Chuck, if you have the time, I’d like to speak to you after lunch. No more stabbing today, I promise.”

Chuck hesitated, but nodded. “Mess hall’s this way.”

“Thanks heaps,” Herc said sincerely to Matthew. It didn’t take him long to get to his quarters. He found E.J. dozing, but she woke at his entrance.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Herc greeted. “You hungry?”

E.J. made a face. “Can I just get some soup?”

“Instant or something fresher?”

E.J.’s face dimmed. “Instant’s fine,” she said, and Herc knew it wasn’t.

“E.J., it’s no trouble for the mess hall to bring you something. How do you suppose we staff get fed when we’re sick or too tired to move? The mess hall has delivery runners. Why do you act like you’re tallying up the cost and expecting a bill?”

“Doesn’t it always?”

“Not here,” Herc said. “I love you, E.J. You’re not a burden, and if I had to hazard a guess, your mom made you think you had to pay your debts. I’m not counting. Do you get that? If there’s a disparity between us, I will let you know what I think it is. Until then, stop fucking fretting that you owe me and focus on getting well. Or do you really want to spend more time in Medical?”

E.J. froze. “You love me? But I’m sick,” she protested.

Herc grinned. “Aren’t you supposed to love someone in sickness and in health? So we got the sickness part now. And when you’re better, we will be talking about what the fuck makes you think I’d be one of those creeps who’d claim love and then present you a bill for services rendered.”

E.J. breathed out carefully. “Okay,” she said meekly. “Fresh soup, please, something gingery and good?”

Herc kissed her forehead and picked up the tablet whose base station lived on the kitchenette counter. A quick set of keystrokes brought up the video connection to the mess hall.

“Yes, sir?” the line cook answered.

“Could you have soup and crackers delivered to my quarters, something for E.J. with ginger in it? Also, would you deliver a lunch for me as well?”

“Yes, sir. Dr. Chandel warned us Ms. Seiler might need soup today, so we made a chicken noodle with ginger and bok choy soup. Would she like American saltines or Chinese rice crackers?”

Herc glanced at E.J. “American, please,” she said hoarsely.

“American, and some tea,” Herc decided. 

“Of course. Would you like your usual sandwich and crisps, sir?”

“Yes, please.”

“We’ll bring it to you shortly, sir.”

Herc disconnected the video call and went to sit on the bed next to E.J. “See? Nothing to it.” Then he did a double-take: E.J. was crying.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

“You’re perfect,” she sobbed. “I’m a mess and you’re perfect.”

Taken aback, Herc stared at her before chuckling. “Oh, E.J.,” he said, putting his arms around her. “No wonder you didn’t call me; you don’t handle being not in control well, do you?”

She shook her head against his chest. 

“Well, then, you’ll just have to focus on getting better, yeah?” Herc carefully reached for the box of facial tissues on the nightstand and put them on the bed within E.J.’s reach.

E.J. breathed in carefully, and reached for a tissue. “Okay,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's that time of year: the chicken soup I grew up on is chicken tinola; [Food Network](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/chicken-tinola-recipe.html#!) has a good recipe.


	19. Chapter 19

“I need to walk Max,” Chuck told Matthew after lunch, daring the older man to argue.

“Bring him along, then,” Matthew said placidly, “and we’ll walk and talk.”

Matthew waited until they were on the jumphawk pad before speaking. No one was around to hear them as they walked close to the ocean and Max happily checked out the smells. “Why don’t you think you deserve more than what you have, Chuck?”

Chuck glanced at the other man, certain this was a trick question. “Because nothing in my life was my choice except going to the Jaeger Academy and succeeding at being a jaeger pilot.”

“And you don’t think being immortal is one?”

“Not when the alternative is dying.”

Matthew sighed. “I was a knight when I died the first time. My lady was the one who taught me. I thought no lady could know a damned thing about how to fight.”

“Like an actual knight in armor?” Chuck gaped at him.

“Precisely,” Matthew said, and his usual Southern accent disappeared as he said, “Sir Matthew of Salisbury, at your service. I was born in 1222 in what’s now Salisbury, England. I was the most experienced and the best knight in my lady’s army when I died in 1255 in a jousting tournament. I thought I knew it all. She snuck me out of the castle that night and spent the next six months training me on how to live my new life. I…did not take kindly to her lessons at first, but I’d no idea she’d been a warrior for a tribe the Romans wiped out of existence. I’ve been a lot of things since then, young Hansen, some of which I regret, some of which I don’t.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed as he calculated the other immortal’s chronological age, and mentally whistled. Eight centuries was a long time to be alive. He studied Matthew, seeing a core of inner solidity Chuck knew he only had when he was in a jaeger, drawing upon his father’s conviction that they had to win. “So you know how hard it is to change from fighting to…having to be the one training the fighters.”

“I do,” Matthew said with a nod. “You are not alone in this, but that’s your problem.”

“How so?”

“Have you ever been alone?”

Chuck stopped walking and turned to stare at him. “No. Even when I’ve hated my father the most, I’ve always had the ghost drift to know where he was. It’s stronger when we’ve Drifted recently, but the docs say we’ll always be able to feel each other’s emotions because we piloted a jaeger so much over five years.”

Matthew’s mouth tightened into a grim smile. “Then that’s part of the problem.”

“I don’t see how,” Chuck said, shaking his head.

“Your anger coming through the ghost drift caused your father to stumble in a fight against me. Had I been more ruthless, that would’ve meant your father’s death. Do you see why they’ve been so upset that you’re not seeing the bigger picture?”

“Because they think I’ll get my father killed,” Chuck said with dawning horror. “Because if I feel his death, I…I could get myself killed. Maybe even Richie too, if he knew what was happening, because he loves me like I’m his son and my old man sees him as one of his best friends.”

Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “So why are you fighting, Chuck? Why shouldn’t I spare them that horror?”

Chuck stared at him. “Because nothing good comes of my death or theirs,” he spat. “You’re saying that other immortals could be as big of a threat to my family as the kaiju.”

“Bigger,” Matthew said softly. “The kaiju just wanted us dead. The winner of the Game rules the world, and Richie told me Herc fought against headhunters who thought one less jaeger pilot was just awfully convenient.”

“I’ve been a bloody useless drongo, haven’t I.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You did a good thing, killing kaiju and setting records out there with your father, but it wasn’t you who sealed the Breach, was it?”

“No, it was a guy who risked every cell in his brain he had left to do it.”

“Why did he?”

“Because…aw, fuck. Because someone asked him where he’d rather die – in a jaeger or some bloody useless wall. For Raleigh, the answer was always obvious. Even though his PTSD is worse now, he doesn’t regret it. Mako, his copilot, told me that he didn’t go down to the Breach wanting to die, either.”

Matthew looked intently at Chuck. “And why are you in the Game, Chuck?”

“Because I’m a Hansen, and we Hansens don’t believe in anything less than doing the right thing. Even if the right thing involves taking someone else’s head.” Chuck looked at Matthew. “I hated Dad when he told me that when I was nineteen.”

“And now?”

“And now,” Chuck swallowed, “I’m starting to see the point he was trying to make. This life of ours…this isn’t about how good you are, is it? It’s about what you’re willing to do to protect what’s yours to protect, what you can protect. And,” Chuck blinked, surprised to find his eyes were wet with unshed tears, “and it’s about who you are as a person, inside. I never was that good. I’ve always felt like I stood in a shadow.”

“And if you decided to go to college and get that degree, what would you do with it?”

“Turn right around and apply it here, to what I know,” Chuck admitted. “I love my father, more than I ever learned to say outside of a Drift. I’ve been his copilot for five years; I’ll always be his copilot. But…I’ve always stood in the shadow of giants – better pilots, pilots with less arrogance, more bravery under fire. I’ve never been just Chuck Hansen.” He laughed bitterly. “Never seemed to be allowed, either.”

Matthew’s gaze on Chuck was steady, his voice a slow Southern drawl that flayed Chuck as surely as a whip. “Did you ever want to be? Or were you so convinced the only person the world needed was the arrogant asshole who could pilot a jaeger better than anyone else, even his own father?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” Chuck retorted.

“And have you figured out who you’ll be now?”

“Thought I was doing okay. Apologized to the people who matter, reined in the attitude, and started training the new group who’ll take my place out there.”

“And what about the empty times, when your father’s not available? What do you do that’s yours alone?”

“It’s stupid kid stuff to draw.”

“Is it? Your father thought your drawing was good enough for your jaeger. You need touchstones that are yours and yours alone, Chuck, else your opponent will overwrite who you were, and you can’t afford that. Not when I can tell you love someone and that person matters so much you’re willing to change everything.”

“I don’t want to lose Raleigh. He makes me want to be someone better. Someone worth his time.”

“And what for yourself?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I can’t go backward. I have to move forward, and I don’t know how. You just showed me that. I need to change or I’ll be dead.”

“You’re not in a jaeger now, Chuck.”

“No, I’m not.” Chuck laughed hollowly. “They tell me teenagers spend their teen years figuring how to be different from their parents. The Drift isn’t about what’s different. It’s what you have in common. I spent my teenage years figuring out the only thing different from my old man was that I liked guys and he didn’t.”

“That’s one thing. You’re Australian; who’s the last person to call you Charlie?”

“My mom, the morning Trespasser hit. I didn’t want anyone else to call me that, after.” Chuck shuddered as the old grief rolled through him, then he felt his father do the ghost drift equivalent of a hug and breathed out slowly.

Matthew’s reaction was instant. “You flinched; your father felt what you were feeling and passed assurance back to you.”

“Yeah. I never learned to shield myself like he did.”

“Then that will be your first lesson tomorrow. The more centered you are, the better off you’ll be. Fighting an immortal is a two-part process, Chuck. Win the physical fight, then the one for your soul.”

Chuck’s eyes widened. “No wonder Dad’s memories of that were always this jumbled nightmare of a Drift gone wrong.”

Matthew stared at him. “You’ve seen your father’s fights in the Drift?”

“You see why I’m flinching?”

“Oh sweet merciful God. Have you taken your first Quickening?”

“No.”

“Then we have a lot of work to do, else you _won’t_ survive it, and your father might not, either,” Matthew said grimly. “You see taking a Quickening as a nightmare Drift, which means you’re automatically set up to flinch and shut down. That won’t work; it needs to be an integration with you as the dominant personality. What does your schedule look during the week?”

Chuck considered. “Will an hour a day help? I usually skip lunch in favor of a big breakfast.”

“I’ll take the hour if you can find me space to train you.”

Chuck half-smiled. “I’m the co-director of jaeger pilot training. If I can’t abuse my authority to close the kwoon for an hour for me, then who can?”

Matthew smiled. “Works for me.”

It wasn’t, Chuck reflected later, the most intense five weeks of training he’d ever had. Nothing matched the Jaeger Academy for that. Instead, it was the most personal. Matthew demanded answers to questions Chuck hadn’t even asked himself yet, and made Chuck think about his reactions. It was like going to see Victoria P’Eng for therapy, but with swords, knives, blood, and Chuck dying repeatedly of stupidity before he caught on that it wasn’t the answers he was being stupid about, it was his impulsiveness and inability to see how his actions reflected on others. Candles, meditation, tai chi, and repeated emphasis on who he thought he was, who he wanted to be, what he considered to be the good and bad parts of his life, all combined with precision sword drills to form a very unusual training routine. 

For the first time, Chuck understood why he’d never been able to hold his father’s broadsword properly: he was afraid of it and what he’d seen of its use in the Drift. By the end of the five weeks, he knew that if Herc tossed it to him to use, he’d have no problem doing so, but that he preferred the balance and grip of his swept-hilt broadsword. More to the point, Chuck knew where his lines were drawn, lines that he’d borrowed from Herc and Richie without thinking about why they mattered to _him._

After the first week, Matthew insisted on a second, additional hour, which Chuck accommodated after dinner. In Matthew, Chuck found a man with a wicked sense of humor, a terrible fondness for law enforcement puns, and a completely committed sense of responsibility. It was the latter that gave Chuck the greatest hope that he wasn’t completely screwing up Immortality 101.

He’d looked up to Richie and his father for so long, Chuck had forgotten what it might mean to be his own man. He’d craved his father’s approval in a way only a child of the mind could: constantly, without once acknowledging he had it every single time they killed a kaiju together. He’d wanted Richie to be proud of him, without ever acknowledging that the older immortal was like a second father to him, or the risks Richie ran the longer he stayed with the PPDC, looking as though he hadn’t aged a day in years. The realization made him feel small, and he spent the rest of evening in Victoria’s quarters, pouring out years of guilt and pain before the psychiatrist gently pushed him out. “They did it out of love. Now go, have a good cry, and come talk to me in the morning,” she told him firmly. He did, and felt better for it. He quietly made a standing appointment with Victoria to work through some of the bigger issues, and knew his tendency to act first, then think, would always be a weakness until he was in the habit of not doing so.

His shielding against his father’s emotions grew, until one day he couldn’t feel the feedback loop from his father having sex, and shocked them both by knocking on Herc’s door and interrupting because _Chuck couldn’t even feel Herc anymore_ and it scared him. Herc had roared that it was payback, threw a pillow at him, and slammed the door. Chuck couldn’t look E.J. in the eye the following morning, until she took pity on him and reminded him, “Everyone has horror stories about parents walking in and catching them having sex. You’ve just reversed it.”

“Yes, but this makes the second time in my life I’ve done it,” Chuck said, still mortified. “I was four years old the first time and got away with it then because of my age.”

“Oh,” E.J. said. Then her eyes widened. “You watched your parents?”

“Heard noises, went to investigate, then, because I’m a precocious kid, tried to figure out what they were doing.”

E.J. glanced over at Herc, who was busy chatting with Dylan. “Then let me speak on your father’s behalf. Try not make it three times, please? Because while I’m not your mother, I will kick your ass if you do.”

“I won’t, I promise, ma’am.” He didn’t like that quiet threat encased in velvet or the way E.J. looked like she’d kill him with just that look if he went too far. It had taken her a full two weeks to recover from her illness; the weeks since then had been spent making the most of every free hour she and Herc had together, a scenario Chuck knew pleased his father to no end. Deciding that retreat was the better part of valor, Chuck slunk off before she could say anything more.

Chuck was never more grateful for Raleigh’s patience and support as the training sometimes left Chuck moodier than usual. Immortal healing didn’t do much for wounds of the heart and soul, Chuck discovered, and it felt as though he overdue for some of the lessons others of his age had learned. When he mentioned that to Matthew, Matthew had simply asked, “By whose measure? Yours or someone else’s? Some people never learn what you’re learning.” That struck a chord in Chuck, and he took comfort in it. 

After some discussion with Raleigh, Chuck agreed never to invite him to watch the sparring sessions Chuck had with any of the immortals in the ‘dome. Bruises were one thing, Raleigh explained, but blood and temporary death were another. Raleigh didn’t mind seeing Chuck’s sword or his boot knife as long as they were clean. Chuck held himself to that promise, hating every nightmare Raleigh had because of Chuck triggering him. 

The only hitch in the training sessions came when Shawn Reardon, one of the new jaeger pilots, asked if he could watch and possibly participate, since he’d learned fencing as a teenager. Shawn had the typical Newfoundlander’s accent. His face had an unfinished look to it, as if a sculptor had started chiseling out the lower half of it and then gave up. He had dark black hair and a lean body frame, but was shorter than Chuck by three inches.

Matthew rescued Chuck when he got tongue-tied.

“Sorry,” Matthew drawled. “The marshal requested that I come and assist Mr. Richards in teaching Senior Ranger Hansen some personalized techniques in advanced ruthlessness, so it’s not fencing.”

“But I can tell you’re using swords,” Shawn began, only to be drawn up short by the amused look on Matthew’s face. “Emerald Star and Sentinel Falcon have chain swords.”

“So we are and so they do,” Matthew said. “However, if you wish to learn that, I recommend you speak with Senior Rangers Becket and Mori. Correct me if I’m wrong, Chuck, but they were quite effective, weren’t they?”

“Managed to hack off Otachi’s wings at fifty thousand feet and kill the bastard,” Chuck agreed with a nod. “And land their jaeger in one piece, more or less, without damage to themselves.”

“But, Ranger Hansen, wouldn’t it be useful if I knew –”

“Did you use foil or sabre?” Matthew interrupted.

“Sabre, sir.”

“Then you know what you need to know,” Chuck finished. “This…this is for me, Shawn. If I deem you need to know it, you’ll be the first to know.”

Shawn looked at Matthew, then at Chuck. “Shannon said you’re doing this stuff to keep the adrenaline junkie fix at bay, since you were the best jaeger pilot for so long.”

“I wasn’t the best,” Chuck corrected, surprising Shawn. “I was one-half of the best team. Remember that and you might just get out of alive. And if you think I piloted a jaeger for the adrenaline fix, then you know nothing about my family or me. My uncle was an adrenaline junkie, always looking for the next thing. Go back and study your history some more, Mr. Reardon.”

Shawn swallowed hard. “Sorry, sir. Permission to be dismissed, sir?”

“Granted,” Chuck said, and escaped gratefully into the kwoon.

“Nicely done,” Matthew told him. 

Chuck smiled. “I prefer your explanation to mine. I was just going to say this is for me and doesn’t have much to do with jaegers.”

“Ah, but his curiosity wouldn’t have been satisfied,” Matthew noted. “And you reminded him that adrenaline junkies have no place in a jaeger.”

“Thank God for that. So what am I doing today?”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corrupt document, take that, hah! I recover you anyway.
> 
> In honor of that, I present this outside viewpoint I was going to cut.

“I told you they wouldn’t let you,” Fai admonished Shawn when he rejoined the group of new jaeger pilots in the media room, looking disappointed.

“Yeah, but I had to try. Least I got to see that it’s only the marshal, Richie, Chuck, and that new guy. No Becket or Mori or Hu.”

“You really think any of those three would be up for it?” Shannon asked as she made room for her older brother on the couch.

“Mori’s the one who put swords in Gipsy Danger,” Curtis noted. “Her family was swordmakers.”

Vo shook his head. “Yes, but I can’t see her interested in using them in anything other than a jaeger. You notice, when she and Becket talked about the motion required to use them in the jaegers, it was about muscle motion like this,” he stood up and demonstrated by making a fist, then lifting his hand to shoulder height, and then cocking his arm back.

“That’s not enough motion,” Shawn frowned. “It’s an incomplete swing. Shouldn’t it be a full slice with follow-through?” He demonstrated.

“You’re thinking of a person. In a jaeger, the computer compensates, remember?” Shannon said.

“Yeah. I just...it drives me crazy. The Hansens are the only jaeger pilots to list swords as personal weaponry,” Shawn said. “I thought maybe I’d get to practice with them.”

“They didn’t get that allowance for your amusement,” Jeremy said, stepping into the media room. “The kaiju cultists made credible threats against all of the jaeger personnel. The marshal refuses to use a gun unless he’s specifically required to use one, so that left boot knives and swords. Now, since you’ve been speculating, I will also let you know that the training Senior Ranger Hansen is doing is none of your fucking business; it’s his, and if any of you do anything to interfere, interrupt, or sabotage it, you will regret it. Any questions?” Jeremy folded his arms and looked at the group sternly. “I had better hopes for all of you.”

The chief of security waited until Shawn spoke. “Sorry, sir, I was just curious.”

“Curious cats die, Mr. Reardon, or haven’t you heard that saying?”

“I have, sir. You have my word: I won’t bother the marshal or Senior Ranger Hansen about this morning’s training anymore.”

“You left two people off that list, one of whom could make your jaeger completely uncomfortable for you to operate. I’m told Ranger Scott Hansen always wondered why his harness was cold every time he stepped into it. Mr. Richards was a part of Lucky Seven’s crew. I’m not a believer in coincidences; are you?”

Curtis whistled softly. “You don’t miss much, do you, Mr. Livojević?”

“The marshal expects nothing less.”

Shawn sighed. “Or Mr. Richards or his guest.”

“Good. Also, be advised, no one is going to Tropic tonight due to this morning’s attempt.” Jeremy exited, satisfied.

“Way to go, Shawn,” Remy spoke up for the first time. “Now there’s no way I’m going to win the trivia tournament.”

“I didn’t know, okay? Sheez. I thought I was just asking questions.”

“Like when you asked Becket if it hurt to pilot solo?” Curtis said pointedly. “I think we know who the brains are in your family, Reardon.”

Shawn glared at the Brit while pointedly ignoring his sister’s glare. He wanted to know more, damn it; surely someone in this ‘dome had the answers.

He was, therefore, not expecting Chuck himself to call him out in the kwoon later that same day and toss him a wooden practice sword. “Since you were so curious,” Chuck called. “Come see if you can fight, boy.”

Shawn glanced at his sister. “You’d better fight,” Shannon told him. “And fight well, damn you.”

Chuck held a second wooden practice sword as if it was the real thing. He let Shawn have the first attack, then demonstrated just why he was still one of the best fighters the PPDC had. Shawn found himself on the mat, weaponless, and pinned with his arm behind his back with Chuck’s weight on him.

“Now that I have your attention,” Chuck said harshly, “perhaps you’ll reconsider sticking your nose into matters that are none of your business. Clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Shawn said, breathing hard and wincing at the pain.

Chuck let go and stood. “You want to win a fight, Mr. Reardon, start thinking ahead. Or you’ll wind up just like I did, pinned by a has-been and wondering what the fuck happened.”

It was then Shawn noticed Raleigh Becket on the sidelines, poker face firmly in place, and cursed his life. He saw Raleigh as his hero, and wanted very much to impress him. 

“You’re not a has-been, sir,” Shawn said quickly to Chuck. “You set the record for the most kaiju kills.”

“I didn’t do it alone,” Chuck reminded him. “And if you want to be better than a Hansen, Mr. Reardon, you have to be better than me and my old man put together. Think there’s any room in that jaeger left for your sister with an ego like that?”

Shawn glanced at his sister, feeling as though his dream of piloting a jaeger was slipping through his fingers. Judging from the look on her face, she thought the same way. “Didn’t you always say that you earned your attitude?”

“So I did,” Chuck agreed. “You, on the other hand, haven’t yet, and you’re going to get your sister killed for it. Shannon, next time you two are in the sims, I want you in the right harness.”

“Yes, sir. Come on, Shawn, let’s get you over to Medical; that cut on your cheek’s looking pretty nasty.”

They were halfway down the hallway before they heard Raleigh ask Chuck, “Did you have to use the same move I used on you?”

“Worked on me,” Chuck said unrepentantly. “Come on, help me find where that other practice sword went.”

Shawn looked at his sister. “Raleigh took Chuck down with the same move?”

“Rumor is that he showed up after five years away still in fighting shape,” Shannon pointed out. “But you’re still an idiot, Shawn.”

“Yeah, yeah, so I didn’t think that one through. Just wasn’t expecting it to bite me like that.” He glanced at her. “Whatever they’re training Chuck to do, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Good,” Shannon said, and smacked the side of his head lightly for good measure. “We have our first mission in January, and I’d like not to have Quint as my copilot. Got that?”

Shawn nodded.


	21. Chapter 21

The second Friday in December brought the Australian Association’s annual black tie holiday gala, held at the Australian Consulate. Herc escorted E.J.; it was her official debut as his girlfriend, and the press was out in full force. Officially, Chuck went alone, since Raleigh and Mako had been invited as a duo. Chuck found himself drawing upon the formality Matthew had insisted he learn as well, the stiff precision serving to keep Chuck from revealing his relationship with Raleigh before the American was ready. Matthew wanted one more week of training before he felt Chuck was fully ready to take on the world, but Chuck sensed he was close. He certainly felt more settled, and knew from the way Raleigh kept studying him that it was starting to show.

The annual gala brought a mix of high society, diplomats, and those who could afford the HK$400 price per person for canapés and three drink coupons. Somehow, Chuck wasn’t surprised to find his teachers among the mix; Matthew had warned him that he would be there, representing the law enforcement consultancy he owned. Richie had never lacked for dates when he chose to seek them out; tonight, he was the escort of a shy but stunningly pretty brunette who looked overwhelmed by the unsubtle presence of power, authority, and money.

Chuck did a double take when he finally recognized her. “Marissa? Lucky Seven’s head tech’s daughter?”

She grinned. “Yes. Richie made me swear not to tell you.”

“You grew up pretty,” Chuck said admiringly. She’d been one of the few kids he’d gotten to play with when he was younger, and had missed her when her family had chosen to leave rather than stay with the ‘dome.

“So did you,” Marissa said. “Oh, hell, give me a hug, you arrogant oaf.”

Laughing, Chuck did so, remembering that had been precisely how she’d introduced herself. _My da says you’re an arrogant oaf. Do you know what an oaf is? Is it like an oat leaf except without the l, e, and a? I’m Marissa and I’m thirteen._ “I stopped being clumsy and ignorant a long time ago, Marissa.”

“So did I,” she agreed. “I told my da you’d be in a jaeger ‘til the end. He paid up that bet with interest yesterday.”

Grinning, Chuck remembered why he’d liked her so much. He’d sneered at her company as only an ambitious, jaeger-obsessed boy could, but she’d been one of the ones who’d pushed back just as hard. They’d only had four months together before her father had been hurt in an accident. “Was it enough for your plane ticket?”

“No, my company paid for that, but it did pay for my dress. I didn’t expect to run into Richie at the movie theatre the other day. He hasn’t aged a day, can you believe it?”

“Great genes. I swear he’s related to me somehow; we just haven’t found how.”

“We’re Australians; we’re all related somehow if you go back far enough,” Marissa said with a laugh. “I’m interning for a marine engineering firm now. I heard you’re training the new pilots. Thought you’d always be a jaeger pilot.”

“Can’t do it without my old man,” Chuck said simply. “Stacker Pentecost and I could because Stacker test piloted with my dad. How’s your dad?”

“Arthritis in his hands now. Docs say it’s because he was spending so much time doing the fine lubrication work; aged his hands faster.” Marissa’s smile was one of resigned acceptance. “He cried when Lucky Seven was destroyed, swore it was Scott fucking up for the last time. Since no one’s heard about your uncle since, we figured that was the case.”

Aware that he couldn’t disclose the truth, Chuck smiled politely. “It was good seeing you, Marissa. Excuse me, I think my old man’s trying to get my attention.”

Herc wasn’t, but Chuck headed in that direction anyway. Halfway there, Chuck felt the warning surge of another immortal. He found a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties approaching him, but the closer he got, the more certain Chuck was he wasn’t the source of the signal. “Hope I’m not interrupting your attempt to get to the restroom,” the stranger greeted with a smile. His black hair was in a fashionable style, lightly gelled to keep every strand in place. A thin, aggressive nose that, to Chuck’s eye, looked as though it had been broken at least once and not reset properly punctuated his heart-shaped face. He had medium-brown skin with warm, golden undertones. He wore the black tux as though he was not used to wearing one, though it had been fitted to his athletic frame perfectly. As a man who found other men attractive, Chuck appreciated the view, but knew he was completely committed to Raleigh.

“No, considering it’s in the other direction,” Chuck said blandly. “And you are?”

“Naresh Singh, lead engineer for Elevator Service Company here in Hong Kong. You’re Chuck Hansen.”

“And?” Chuck asked. He didn’t like knowing there was an unknown immortal in the room and had no patience for a jaeger fan.

“And thank you. I was in Kuching when KC-24 hit.”

“Ah, you’re welcome.”

“And I’m boring you to pieces,” Naresh surmised.

“Yes,” Chuck said bluntly.

“No truth to the rumor, then, that you’re gay?”

“No rumor, but I’m not interested.”

“Thought you…appreciated grateful and discreet.”

“That was before I met someone,” Chuck said, and seeing an opening, brushed past him, trying to get to Matthew or Richie.

A buxom blonde bombshell in a black lace evening gown waylaid him a second time. He took one look at her intense face, which turned her beauty into cold ice, and decided hell no. “Ranger Hansen, may I have a moment?”

“No,” Chuck said, and used a passing server to avoid her entirely. He never heard her swear, or looked back to see the server stumble.

“Problem?” Richie asked when Chuck finally made it to his side.

“A couple of fans,” Chuck said with a shrug. “Didn’t like the creepy vibes. Who’s the strange one of us?”

“Drive-by, as far as I could tell,” Richie said. “But just in case, best if you stayed close to me, Matthew, or Herc the rest of the evening.” He passed Chuck a freshly filled champagne flute. “Can’t vouch for everyone here.”

Chuck nodded grimly. “Feel like someone really wanted me to find someone attractive, you know? Me a year ago might’ve done it.” He paused. “But from the way you’re reacting, I might have regretted it in more ways than one.”

Richie nodded. “It is a target-rich environment. No one would’ve looked twice if you’d slipped out with someone for a hookup.” He smiled thinly. “Except those of us who know who you’ve been seeing, of course.”

Chuck whistled softly. “Saved by Raleigh Becket again,” he murmured. “What happened to Marissa?”

“She didn’t want to stay longer, so I put her in a taxi and sent her home,” Richie said. “I only brought her because she wanted to surprise you, and I promised her dad I would.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed. “She was nursing a crush. Did you warn her I’m gay and in a relationship?”

“Some people don’t want to believe until they get personally rejected.”

Chuck sighed. “I only remember her because she was so distinctive.” He shook his head. “Have you said hello to the Australian ambassador yet?”

“Was waiting on you so you could introduce me,” Richie told him.

The feeling he was being watched, though, didn’t leave him the rest of the evening, and Chuck was glad when he, Herc, E.J., Richie, Mako, and Raleigh all climbed into the PPDC limo to head back to the Shatterdome. Raleigh immediately curled into his side like a limpet, which made Mako laugh.

“Not gonna apologize,” Raleigh said distinctly. “Just remember, Mako, when you do this to your guy, payback is a bitch and tends to have puppies.”

“Where’s Mr. Salisbury? Didn’t he come with us?” E.J. asked.

“No, he has his own place. He was talking with a potential client,” Herc offered.

“Oh, okay. Been seeing him so much at dinner, I thought he lived with you all,” E.J. murmured.

“No, Matthew’s just trying to teach me a few things that I didn’t want to learn from my old man or Richie,” Chuck said easily.

“So when are you moving in, E.J.?” Mako asked bluntly.

“New Year’s,” E.J. confirmed. “My lease is up at the end of the month.”

“Congrats,” Chuck said, meaning it.

Mako looked over at Richie, who was grinning as though he was personally responsible. “You and I are the only single people in this car,” she noted. “Perhaps we should come to an agreement.”

Richie burst out laughing. “Depends on what kind of agreement you mean, Miss Mori,” he said, amused. “Do we date? Fuck? Just escort each other to events like this? Not? Because I think I should tread carefully, considering I know exactly how lethal your engineering can be.”

“Oh, I think you’d survive nearly anything,” Mako murmured. “But for the sake of our friends, shall we agree to continue this conversation later?”

“Agreed,” Richie said hastily, and Chuck swore mentally. If Mako had figured out immortality, or had asked Raleigh the right questions, then they were overdue in disclosing it to her. Richie neatly distracted E.J. from pursuing what Mako meant by saying, “E.J., in case I didn’t mention it, you look fabulous.”

“Mako helped me pick out something once she saw my black dress.”

“It was serviceable but not very flattering,” Mako said. “Long sleeved, too, better for winter.”

Chuck looked over at E.J. She’d worn a simple black V-neck cocktail-length gown with cap sleeves; the ruby teardrop necklace he’d come to associate with her was her only accessory. She’d braided her long black hair into a braid that looked like a headband tucked over one ear. The style of the dress exposed all of the scars on her left forearm.

“You’re just insistent that scars are something to be proud of,” Raleigh told Mako.

“Your point?” Mako asked.

“It’s okay, Raleigh,” E.J. broke in. “Just not used to being around people who think tattoos and scars aren’t bad things.”

“People who think they are haven’t lived the lives we have,” Raleigh said firmly. “And they can fuck off.”

E.J. smiled. “Not as blond and dumb as you look, are you, Mr. Becket?”

“I’m just a kid from Anchorage who got lucky, ma’am,” Raleigh said in his usual charming dismissal.

“And Herc’s son would waste his time with an idiot,” E.J. replied evenly, “and the arrogant pilot Chuck Hansen would let just anyone curl up to him. Since I don’t buy either of those things, give it up.”

Raleigh sat up more at that, but put his arm around Chuck. “Been waiting for you to say something.”

“I begin to see why Mako is your copilot,” E.J. murmured. “The public thinks you’re just charming and humble; they overlook everything else. Both of you are not the perception you present.”

“They see what they want,” Raleigh replied. “I know where home is and what I’ve done to keep it safe. That’s what I care about.”

“So, how’d I do tonight?” E.J. asked, looking at Herc as she leaned into his embrace.

“I like seeing E.J.-the-economist,” Herc told her.

“Good, because now I’m off-duty. Wake me when we get back to your place.” With that, E.J. closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Chuck looked at his father, concerned. “Has she been doing that a lot?”

“She was very nervous earlier,” Herc noted. “And she said she was working long hours earlier in the week.”

“Is she staying the whole weekend?” Mako asked.

“Yes. I’ll see if I can get Grace to check her out; I’m a little worried her energy is still not what it should be.” Herc looked at Mako. “You’re reminded of Stacker.”

“Hai,” she said with a nod. “He always ran himself too thin, but what he ate helped. Hu and I were in the market this morning, and prices have gone up again on fresh fruit.”

“Be years before this levels out,” Herc said. “I know we’ve been getting some items direct from Europe, just to be sure there’s no kaiju blue contamination. And I really, really don’t want to discuss any more financial stuff tonight, because that was what we talked about with everyone once they found out what E.J. does.”

“So let’s not. We have one more party before Christmas?” Raleigh asked.

“US Consulate’s Women’s Club, next Thursday, and then we have ours in the ‘dome on the 21st.”

“But that’s not anyone from outside, is it?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, it is,” Herc replied. “It’s the official holiday party for the PPDC. Christmas Day and Boxing Day, we close the ‘dome to everyone who isn’t living in it or is senior staff.”

“Got it,” Richie said. “Couldn’t remember what we did last year.“ He glanced out the window. “Looks like we’re home, guys. Need a hand with E.J., Herc?”

“No, I’ll wake her, but thanks.”


	22. Chapter 22

Richie waited until everyone else had departed the motor pool before following Mako to her quarters. Knocking on her door, he bowed to her before speaking. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Mako said, and shut the door behind him when he did so.

“You seem to have questions.”

“I remember you looking the same when I met you the first time.”

Richie let out a breath. “I’d forgotten you were in Sydney with Marshal Pentecost that day.”

“Hai,” she said with a nod. “You asked me if I was afraid of the jaegers. I told you that I thought all of them should have swords.”

“So you did,” Richie said quietly.

“You told me that when I was older, I could make that happen. I believed you then.” She paused. “Chuck and Herc no longer scar when they fight. I do not care how this is, only that I know they are like you now. I helped calculate the additional materials required to bolster the radiation shielding on the escape pods on all the jaegers, so I know how long the shields should have lasted.”

Richie nodded slowly. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised by her assessment or her involvement. “And?”

“And that blast should’ve killed Chuck, if not as soon as it hit, shortly thereafter.”

Richie studied her. “You’ve kept your silence until now. Why say anything?”

Mako offered him a small smile. “Because Raleigh knows something I don’t and it makes him sad that he cannot share it. I needed a way to tell him that it’s okay.” She met Richie’s gaze evenly. “Because I can see E.J. falling in love, and I know how it feels to keep a secret so big it would mean the end of a good man.”

“Your adoptive father’s cancer.”

Mako nodded. “If _Sensei_ let it be known that he was weakened by it in any way, the UN would’ve tried harder to remove him. He schemed and plotted and planned and worked diligently to stay in remission until the end, when he had control and the UN didn’t.”

“You know if you want to keep this secret, you can’t drop hints to E.J. like you did earlier. She’s not naïve or stupid – and that is a discussion is between her and Herc.”

“I know. Forgive me, that was an impulsive remark.”

“It’s not just me you need to apologize to,” Richie warned her. “This information is as dangerous as your _sensei’s_ cancer, if it were to be known publicly. I need you to swear you won’t tell anyone.”

She looked down contritely, but lifted her head to say, “I won’t. You have my word.” She paused and then added, “I remember my father – not _Sensei_ – telling me that some swordsmen were very hard to kill, immortal unless you took their heads, and only the finest blades wielded by the best arms could do it. He told of a katana, folded a thousand times, given to a foreigner so moral, so just, it was the highest honor he could receive. Its elder sword had been given to an Egyptian in ancient times, in a history the books claim is impossible, but not improbable, if you look at the trade routes. Do you know of the katanas I speak?”

Richie swallowed hard, remembering when one of them had been aimed for his head. “I do. Haven’t seen them in a while, but I know them.”

“But your memories of them are not without pain,” she said, seeing with a clarity Richie hadn’t expected. “I am sorry; I did not wish to cause you that.”

“It's not your fault, Mako.”

Mako closed her eyes briefly. “I watched you the other morning when you thought you were alone. You did katas like I haven’t seen them done in years.”

“Don’t ask questions, Mako, for answers you’re not ready to hear.”

“I am not asking for exact specifications or the operator’s manual,” she said with a shake of her head. “I do not need those kinds of details; what you are training Chuck to do is not how to operate a jaeger better, but how to live in a world I will never be a part of. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then that is satisfactory,” Mako said. “He has needed his ass kicked for some time.” She looked at Richie calmly. “I am glad I did not lose my oldest friend to radiation poisoning, even if he’s always been more difficult to keep as a friend than I’ve sometimes thought he was worth.”

“He’s like a son to me.”

“I noticed,” Mako said quietly, “which is why I am not surprised you found a way to save him.”

“Do you not want to know more?” Richie asked.

Mako considered. “No,” she said simply. “Raleigh knows all of my secrets; it is only fair that he gets to keep something to himself, especially now that he can't Drift. But,” she smiled impishly, “at least this way I know my father’s stories of swordsmen are more than just old legends.”

“Sounds like splitting hairs to me.”

Mako grinned and bowed. “So it is. Thank you, Richie. I will apologize to the Hansens tomorrow. Perhaps you could show Raleigh and me how to do katas like you know them? That way, Raleigh doesn’t feel so excluded from your time with Chuck.”

Understanding that she was bargaining her silence in exchange for the lessons, Richie smiled thinly. “As long as you're not seeing it as blackmail, Miss Mori.”

Caught, Mako gave him a look. “It was worth trying. You move so fluidly; I want to learn. If you’re worried I’d tell someone, I’m not a woman who spills secrets; I leave such nonsense to Dr. Geizler.”

“I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Richards,” Mako said formally, bowing.

Sensing he would get no more acknowledgment than that, Richie bowed to her. “You’re welcome. Sleep well, Mako.”

Mako nodded, and he exited her quarters.


	23. Chapter 23

As soon as the door to his quarters shut behind Chuck, Raleigh pressed him up against it and kissed him enthusiastically. “Hated pretending we were just friends,” Raleigh said when they finally broke apart.

“I see,” Chuck said, amused. “Well, it’s just us now, so no more pretending.”

Raleigh grinned as his hands undid Chuck’s tie and undid the buttons of the suit jacket. “So get naked,” he told Chuck. “It’s been hours since I’ve had my hands on you.”

Enjoying this side of his boyfriend, Chuck arched an eyebrow. “And what about you?”

“Oh, I’ll stay dressed,” Raleigh assured him, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Heard a rumor you like a guy in uniform.”

Chuck burst out laughing, even as he pulled off his suit jacket and tie and set them aside. “So I do,” he admitted with a grin. He quickly shed the rest of his clothing. “And what does my man in uniform want to do with me now that I’m naked?”

“This,” Raleigh said, and kissed him, reaching down to stroke and fondle his nipples as he did so.

Heat surged through Chuck as he realized Raleigh was taking everything Chuck had shown him so far and turning the tables. When Chuck was breathless from the stimulation, hard and aching from Raleigh’s firm strokes on his cock, Chuck managed, “And now what are you going to do?”

“Get you off, of course,” Raleigh purred, and turned him so Chuck’s back was pressed against his front. From a suit pocket, Raleigh produced lube and slicked up his hand before pulling Chuck tight against his body, letting Chuck know without a doubt that Raleigh was just as turned on as he was. “I want to learn how to suck you off like you do me,” he told Chuck as he stroked him. “I want you to be screaming my name when I do. But for right now, I just want you to…come for me.”

That voice in his ear with those words was like a trigger. Chuck came harder than he remembered doing so in his life. Raleigh held him tight as he shivered through the aftershocks. “Jeezus, Raleigh,” Chuck swore, panting. He hadn't known such a simple command would affect him that way, though it made sense: he was conditioned to listen to command voice after so many years of piloting a jaeger. "Let me suck you, please," he begged as he turned to face Raleigh.

“No need,” Raleigh said wryly. “Came when you did. You can help me get undressed, though. I locked up my left arm somehow. Think I was holding on to you too tightly.”

Chuck nodded and kissed him before assisting Raleigh out of his suit. “Want me to massage your arm after you shower?”

“Probably easiest if you just grabbed me a wet washcloth and help me get somewhat clean. I can’t wash myself if my arm’s locked up like this.”

Chuck nodded again, and set about helping his boyfriend. It took some effort, but eventually, Raleigh relaxed enough to unlock his arm.

“Did you think I was going to fall over?” Chuck teased him gently as they lay cuddling in Raleigh’s bed some time later.

“No, I thought I was,” Raleigh confessed with a wry laugh. “Here we are, doing nothing more than jerking each other off, and I’m as turned on as if we were going all the way.”

“Me too, but when have we ever conformed to what society thinks we should do? They wanted me to be either the polite son who didn’t say what he thought or the guy who was totally against the jaeger program. Like I could be a Hansen and be against fighting kaiju.”

Raleigh laughed. “I can’t imagine you protesting the jaeger program. Not when it’s defined your life.” More seriously, he asked, “I know I got us both off by saying I wanted to learn to suck you off, which is true, but if I said I wanted to know how it feels like to fuck you as well, would you let me?”

Chuck breathed out carefully. “Yes, but it’s not like fucking a woman.”

“I saw the gift bag Richie gave you and I did look it up on the Internet,” Raleigh noted dryly. “I’m curious, and I figured maybe if you let me do you, then I can decide if I wanted you to do me.”

“As long as you aren’t doing it because you think you should.”

Raleigh looked at Chuck. “No. I know we talked about that the other day and it's not so I can fit some stupid idea of what your lover is. It’s just…as good as your hands are, I want more.”

Chuck kissed him slowly. “Not tonight, okay? I don’t want to find out that we can lock your arm up again twice in the same night.”

“Sometime soon?” Raleigh asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Chuck promised. He caught the glimmer of mischief in Raleigh’s eyes and warned, “And no waking me up early just to do it.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Damn right. Don’t want you to ever have regrets about being with me, Raleigh.”

Raleigh leaned in to kiss him. “Not likely.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm making up for one badly corrupted document earlier in the week, why do you ask? ;-)
> 
> Commentary, discussion, questions, kudos, and constructive criticism always welcome. :)
> 
> ~~Also, in case you're wondering: yes, I know how this ends. No, I'm not going to post that yet.~~

“Who was it last night?” Richie asked Matthew as soon as he saw the more experienced immortal the following morning in the kwoon.

Matthew shook his head. “Traced it down to a dead end in the warehouse district. Whoever it is, they’re using mortals to single out their targets, someone they think is worth the risk.”

“And you’re too strong.”

Matthew nodded.

“That makes no strategic sense in the Game,” Richie said, frustrated. “Go after the crabgrass for what? The chance six heads will equal one old and experienced immortal? I know that math doesn’t add up. I should know; all I gained by doing that shit was a bad reputation.”

“Chuck would be offended if he heard you compare him to crabgrass,” Matthew noted.

“Fucking yeah I’m offended. What the hell’s going on?” Chuck demanded as he stepped into the kwoon.

“The buxom blonde bombshell last night was carrying a syringe. She wound up dosing a waiter instead of you because you used him to dodge you. He was undercover security, so he was able to get help before he passed out. She’s been arrested,” Matthew explained. “By chance, were you also flirted with by a guy?”

Chuck stared at the two older and more experienced immortals. “Yeah. What the fuck is going on?”

“They tried to use someone you would be likely to find attractive to trap you,” Richie said grimly. “And since they weren't sure what you preferred more, they went for the cliché as well as both genders. Which tells me you might not have been the primary target.”

“Who knows you’re one of us?” Matthew asked.

“Other than you, my old man, Grace, and Raleigh?” Chuck asked as his father joined them. “No one, though as smart as Mako is, I'm sure she's figured it out. She oversaw jaeger restoration and improvements. She won't say anything, even if she gave a huge hint to E.J. in the limo last night that Richie at least has the ability to heal from almost anything.”

“Mako has figured it out; I talked with her last night,” Richie said. “She wanted to let Raleigh – and us, I suspect – know that she knew we could heal. She did the engineering calcs on the radiation shielding for the escape pods.” He glanced over at Herc. “Herc, has E.J. asked you any questions about immortality yet?”

Herc shook his head. “Not yet. So what tipped Mako off besides the calcs?”

“She remembers meeting me when she was thirteen,” Richie said. “Also, her biological father was a sword maker; she’s heard stories about immortals, so she’s splitting hairs. She doesn’t want to know specifics, only that –” and he looked at Chuck “– her oldest friend survived a blast that should’ve killed him.”

Chuck shook his head. “Of course, this means she’s going to kick my ass the next time we spar together.”

Matthew looked at him, hearing the fondness Chuck couldn’t hide. “How long have you known her?”

“Nine, ten years, give or take a few months. We’ve always been in a competition with each other in some fashion, but,” Chuck sighed, “she’s sometimes been my only friend.”

“How likely is she to make a similar slip of the tongue?” Matthew wondered.

“Not likely,” Chuck replied. “She prides herself on learning from her mistakes.”

“And I’ve met your chief of security, Jeremy,” Matthew said. “Cory’s Jeremy, Richie, really?” 

Richie nodded. “Wanted to stack the deck. My family’s here, Matthew.”

“So it is,” he drawled.

“What do you mean, ‘Cory’s Jeremy’?” Herc asked.

“Cory was my student. Mind you, he’s my bank-robbing, money-stealing, always-giving-said-money-to-charity student, but,” Matthew sighed, “he was my first student, and he did get hung for stealing a king’s deer. Expecting him to stop being a thief for the benefit of others is like asking you to regret having your son in a permanent ghost drift with you, Herc.”

“Not on your life,” Herc said immediately. He stared at Matthew. “Wait, so you’re telling me, a man who’s been in law enforcement for what, almost eight centuries, has a student who’s a thief?”

“Yes. He’s also, to his credit, a halfway decent sheep farmer, a better horse breeder, and good with repairing anything with an engine. He’s got a soft spot for kids in trouble, which is how he usually ends up raising one or two.”

Chuck looked at Matthew in dawning realization. “So you knew Jeremy when he was little.”

“Knew of him; didn’t meet him in person until five weeks ago,” Matthew corrected. “I don’t always ask Cory what he’s doing; only that he does it somewhere where I won’t have to arrest him for it.”

“And you have no legal jurisdiction in Hong Kong.”

Matthew nodded. “But because Jeremy was raised by my student, he knows what to look for in his security team, which assures me that we have no leaks here. But when you go out, Chuck, do you ever go alone?”

Chuck shook his head. “It’s always been with either Richie or my old man. They weren’t confident in my abilities.”

“So last night was the first hint anyone outside of the PPDC might’ve gotten that you’re immortal,” Matthew surmised. “Richie, have you been covering for Chuck?”

“Can’t do it too much; wears me out if I do, but yeah.”

Herc looked at Richie, astonished. “What do you mean, cover?”

“Make it seem like there’s only one very strong immortal instead of two separate individuals,” Richie said with a half-shrug.

“You can do that?” Chuck looked at Richie, as surprised as his father.

Richie shrugged more fully. “Picked it up somewhere,” he said noncommittally, meaning, Herc knew, that he probably absorbed the knowledge through taking a head. “But yes.”

“Before you get to thinking you should learn, Herc, Chuck,” Matthew broke in, “most of the immortals I know who are capable of it have been very active players in the Game and have some exposure to the more mystical elements of immortality. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why not?” Chuck wondered.

“Because it makes you more attractive to unsavory supernatural shit,” Richie said flatly. “The catch-22 is you can’t even attempt it unless you’ve been exposed to said shit. I’m talking demons that’ll steal your sanity temporarily and leave you dealing with the fallout afterwards.”

“Seriously? Demons are real?” Chuck demanded.

Richie just looked at him like he was an idiot for asking.

“Let’s not go down that route, yeah?” Herc said, looking at Matthew and Richie. “So what do we do about this potential threat?”

“Treat it like a stalker or an aggressive fan,” Matthew suggested. “Don’t go out alone. Herc, were you able to get E.J. to see Grace? You mentioned before you got into your limo you were worried about how tired she seemed.”

Herc nodded. “Nothing that sleep and some vitamin D supplements won’t cure.” His eyes narrowed on the older man. “You’re thinking I should move her in sooner.”

“If I was targeting you, she’d be whom I’d go after first,” Matthew said bluntly. “If you need official justification, I can write up a report, since I’m officially here as a security advisor.”

Herc nodded. “Probably best if we have the paper trail. I’ll talk to her today and let you know.”

“So that’s it?” Chuck demanded.

“I looked last night,” Matthew told him evenly. “Whoever it is wasn’t tempted by me, which tells me that they want either you or Herc or both. Hence the crabgrass comments earlier.”

Chuck stared at him. “Idiots, the lot of them,” he said. “Why not fight you, if that’s the Game?”

“Because they’d lose,” Herc replied, “and they want a fight they think they can win.”

“Seems stupidly short-sighted to me,” Chuck said. “But, as you’ve all pointed out, short-sightedness is easy to have.”

Matthew grinned. “Long as you keep that in mind, Chuck.” He straightened his shoulders. “Anyone else have any comments about last night’s attempt to draw Chuck out?”

The other men shook their heads.

“Then let’s get this morning’s training started. Ready, Chuck?” 

Chuck nodded and moved to the mat, sword hilt held between the palms of his hands. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, and let out the breath, then the sword slip until he had the grip completely in hand.

“Who are you?” Matthew called out.

“Chuck Hansen, son of Hercules Hansen, former jaeger pilot, from Sydney, Australia.”

“Why are you in the Game?”

“For the same reason I killed kaiju: because I’m trained to do it and I can make a difference, do some good.”

“And can you shield your father from pain?”

“No, but I sure as hell can minimize the backlash,” Chuck said, and parried Matthew’s strike.

Matthew grinned at him. “Better,” he said approvingly. “Much better. You see the difference now, don’t you?”

Chuck nodded. “My words, not theirs, not anyone else’s. My convictions and reasons. Me, one with my sword.”

Across the room, standing on the sidelines, Herc looked at his teacher. “What did we do wrong?” he asked quietly.

“Didn’t give him a sufficient kick in the ass to find his own way,” Richie said dryly. “Either that or we made too many allowances for his mental state or both. I know you were worried he might be grieving over Stacker.”

“Clearly, I was projecting,” Herc muttered.

“Matthew’s good for that kind of clarity. Hey, Matthew, can we do one thing since there are four of us here? See how good Chuck is at two on one?”

“Who wants to be the odd man out?”

“Herc,” Richie said immediately. “Unless you want it, Herc, and the backlash that implies. I know we were discussing it as a last resort if Chuck didn’t start paying more attention.”

“No,” Herc said swiftly. “I’ll take my chances; I never want my son to fear me. Even if that's the Game. Been enough hate and angry words between us as it is.”

Chuck stared at his father. “Agreed, but seriously, old man? Me against them?”

“Might come to that,” Herc said seriously. “Or someone similar. It’s almost always going to be you against someone potentially stronger or more motivated – the trick is to be centered and remember what we’ve taught you.”

Chuck blew out a breath, squared his shoulders, and attempted his best shot at not losing too quickly. It was, as expected, not a fair fight, not even a close one, but Chuck lasted longer than he’d dared to hope. In the process, he discovered all the previous weeks of training had given him an inner strength and confidence in his movements he hadn’t known he’d had.

“Feel better?” Matthew asked as he helped Chuck to his feet.

“Like I lost but not in a stupid way?” Chuck said. “If that makes any sense. Show me how you disarmed me that last time; I don’t understand how you caught my arm like you did.”

Matthew grinned and proceeded to demonstrate.


	25. Chapter 25

“I don’t understand,” E.J. began that afternoon, “why you’re fussing. If it’s just a stalker, then surely the police can handle it?”

“E.J. love, PPDC security only has jurisdiction if it’s here in the Shatterdome or if there’s a kaiju or kaiju remains present,” Herc explained. “For diplomatic reasons, we have to work with the local police. That means if someone kidnaps you, I have red tape to go through before they’ll even consider looking for you.”

E.J. stared at him as she sat at the table in his quarters. “And they’re likely to tell you I wandered off of my own volition?”

Herc nodded. 

E.J. sighed. “Well, it’s not like I didn’t plan on being here most of the time anyway, since I’m taking these last two weeks of December as vacation.”

“Would you rather have a PPDC security guard accompanying you to work and such? I don't want you to feel trapped, and I know you wanted to work since you missed so much time being sick.”

E.J. considered the idea. “If it’s not too much trouble. I can work remotely, but there are files I can’t access that way and I did want to go to the office before Christmas.”

Herc leaned down and kissed her. “Thank you.”

“My parents want to meet you,” E.J. said abruptly.

“When did you want to set up the vid chat?”

“How about never?”

Startled, Herc looked at his girlfriend. “What? Why not?” He pulled out the other chair and sat down.

E.J. shook her head. “My mother saw the pictures of the dress I wore. My dad applauded the decision to show my scars; she...”

“Thinks they make you look horrific,” Herc guessed.

“I don’t want them on the same vid chat. They’ll argue.”

“Then we won’t,” Herc said reasonably. He studied E.J. a moment. “Why are you expecting me to put up a fight over something like that, love?”

“Because everyone else has.”

Herc snorted contemptuously. “I’m not them.” He took her hand in his and squeezed gently. “You’re forgetting I was married for over a decade, E.J. I haven’t forgotten how putting up with family quirks feels like. My in-laws hated the military and thought the PPDC was more of the same.”

E.J. looked down at the table. “You and Chuck never really talk about...about her.”

“Because we’ve said it all in the Drift,” Herc said gently. “We don’t have to anymore. Also, you’re not a carbon copy of Angela and I wouldn’t want you to be. I’m not sure if I met her now, I’d love her like I did. We were teenagers when we fell in love. I prefer a woman who is more worldly, more aware, more like you.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you. I feel like I’ve gone from being sick to being chronically ill and you should trade me in.”

“Talking to your mother this morning gets you thinking that shit?” Herc demanded, annoyed.

E.J. looked at him sheepishly. “Well, when you put it like that, yeah.”

“Quit it. You’re beautiful, E.J. and I love you very much, scars and all. Aside from that, you’re not chronically ill; what you have can be cured. You heard what Grace said.”

E.J. glanced away briefly. “My mother never liked it when I was sick.”

“What parent does? Last thing I wanted to do when Chuck got sick was climb in a jaeger to fight kaiju, but ask him or Richie – soon as I was cleared, I was back in our quarters, making sure he hadn’t gotten any sicker while I was gone.”

“Then you’d be a better parent than mine were – I had to be the perfect one, the one who never got sick or injured. Wasn’t until I refused to go with my mother that I learned different.” 

Herc sighed. “E.J., I’m not your mother or those idiots who you dated before. I’m not them. I’m the guy who keeps telling the UN to piss off; they left the world to die and want to pretend like I wasn’t there for any of their machinations. So while I’m not thrilled to know that you’ve gone from being almost deathly ill to exhausted-with-medical-cause, I understand it and know you’ll get better.”

E.J. pressed her lips together and blinked back tears. “Damn it, Herc, I know you were fighting kaiju, but I wish I could’ve met you sooner.”

“Wouldn’t have been right timing,” Herc said quietly. “Last six months of the war, the only person I saw more of than my son was Stacker Pentecost, and that was because I was his second-in-command.”

She let out a breath. “I suppose.” She looked over at him. “Speaking of scars – how come you don't have any? Raleigh and Mako both have them."

“Their jaeger suffered extensive damage, the kind that burns the drive suit into skin,” Herc said evenly. “When Lucky Seven was damaged, Scott got the burnt of it. I’d already been upgraded to a better, more protective suit so I didn’t get burned.”

“Why didn’t they upgrade him too?”

“No time. Chuck was sick with the flu, so Scott was a last minute substitution, which also meant we couldn’t give him a crash course on Striker and had to use Lucky.”

“Huh, interesting.”

Herc leaned closer and started kissing her upper arm and shoulder. “So what do you say to spending the rest of the afternoon in bed, making love?”

E.J. pretended to consider it. “Shouldn’t you spend some time with your friends?”

“Later, at movie night,” Herc said. 

“In that case,” E.J. said, and moved to meet him in a kiss. Herc knew he was only delaying the inevitable, but he wanted, selfishly, to enjoy every minute until then.


	26. Chapter 26

“You’re up early,” Dylan noted as E.J. stepped into the mess hall the next morning.

E.J. lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “Was hoping I’d catch you.”

“Oh? And here, have some coffee. Herc kept you awake snoring?” Dylan passed over the mug she’d just poured and started to fill another.

“Not snoring.” E.J. sipped at the mug before speaking. “You’re in love with Herc. Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I love him like a big brother, E.J.,” Dylan corrected. “A man like Herc will love a woman enough to slay kaiju to keep her safe, and me...I always wanted to be the one in charge of people like him. It changes you when you do that. You start looking for people who aren’t so inclined to go charging into battle so you have some guarantee they’ll come home.” Dylan offered E.J. a rueful smile. “My luck, of course, is that I’ll find that person and they’ll get T-boned at some intersection driving home one day. I have a friend for life in Herc, and I did my best to give Chuck a good female role model, someone he could come talk to when he needed that perspective. And it’s because of that I can say that you have nothing to fear from me. Why are you fretting?”

“The way you act around Herc and Chuck…I’ve never seen it. My family isn’t like this.”

Dylan grinned. “It’s different with us because I was their marshal first, their friend second. They’re both arrogant men, convinced that they’re doing the right thing – and they’ve had years of proof to back that up. Chuck just happens to be more vocal about it.”

“But he’s incredibly gentle with Raleigh, and acts like he’s been given an incredible gift.”

Dylan nodded. “Chuck screwed up and called Raleigh a has-been when he came back. They got into a fight that Herc had to stop. Raleigh won, by the way, and Chuck hates losing. Were you in the city when the EMP blast hit?”

E.J. nodded. “In a shelter, but I heard it knocked out power here, too.”

“Herc and Chuck were in Striker; the EMP disabled them. They were saved by Raleigh and Mako in Gipsy Danger – and their performance made Chuck revise his assessment of Raleigh.”

E.J.’s eyes widened. “How close were Herc and Chuck to being hurt?”

Dylan smiled. “Herc cracked his shoulder; he’d disconnected to try and restart Striker on emergency power, and the kaiju slammed into the jaeger to try and topple it. When Gipsy was dropped, he and Chuck were on top of Striker and had fired flare guns into Leatherback’s eyes.”

“Flare guns? I thought you weren’t supposed to do that!”

“They’re Aussies,” Dylan said, as if that explained everything. “And Herc admits it was incredibly stupid, but he defends it by saying as long as the kaiju was focused on them, it wasn’t headed into the city.” The petite blonde looked at E.J. “That’s the kind of man he is. Does that scare you?”

“It’s intense,” E.J. admitted. “Two months ago, I wasn’t looking for anyone.”

“And?”

“I can’t imagine my life without Herc.”

“I know them to be deeply caring men. Herc looks at you in a way I’ve only seen when he used to talk about his late wife. You fit in with us and Herc loves you. Question is: do you love him?”

E.J. glanced down at her mug before meeting Dylan’s eyes. “Terrifyingly so. I feel like I’m rappelling off a helicopter into a canyon full of hostiles and I don’t care because he’ll catch me and protect me...and expect me to stand up and do my job at the same time.”

Dylan’s smile widened. “That’s Herc.”

“But...I’ve never had anyone outside of my military unit like that.”

Dylan’s gaze was steady as she asked, “Could you settle for anyone less? Or does that seem awfully lonely?”

“I thought that was how my life was going to be from now on: lonely.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

E.J. let out a breath and took a sip of her coffee. “I keep waiting for the catch, y’know? Because there has to be one.”

“What makes you say that?” Dylan asked evenly.

“Nothing this good comes without a price,” E.J. said.

“There you are,” Herc greeted E.J., coming from behind her to embrace her loosely around her waist and nuzzle her neck. “Come back to bed. Dylan, stop giving my lady coffee on a Sunday morning; she needs to rest.”

Neatly, E.J. found her mug seized, handed over to an amused Dylan, and herself waltzed out of the mess hall. Laughing, E.J. let Herc lead her out, demanding, “Where did you learn to waltz?”

“Richie taught me on a whim. I was pissed off at my brother so Richie decided the last thing I needed was to do something violent.”

“And where did he learn, hmm?”

“His guardian,” Herc said, “really wanted him to be a gentleman.”

“And what does his guardian think of him now?”

Herc stopped dancing and took E.J.’s hand before proceeding to walk normally down the corridor. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he told E.J. as she fell in step beside him. “But I can tell you that I’m very proud to call Richie my best friend.”

“I saw his name on the invitation list the other night. Nobody here calls him Jordan, do they?”

“Only people who don’t know him,” Herc told her.

“How long have you known him?”

“Eleven years now,” Herc replied as they headed down to his quarters. “There was about a two-year period when we lost contact with him, but he resurfaced in Lima and he’s been back with us ever since.”

“Why’d you lose contact?”

“Richie went walkabout,” Herc said with a shrug. “He does that from time to time.” 

Herc looked at her as he unlocked the door to his quarters. “Something on your mind, love?”

E.J. said nothing until they were both inside the room. “Do you love me, Herc?”

Herc nodded as he said, “Yes. Is it not something you want?”

E.J. closed her eyes briefly. “Herc, how can you be so sure? It’s barely December. We only met in October.”

Herc closed the distance between them, needing to hold her. “And would it make a difference if I waited until next October to tell you? That’s not how I operate, E.J. Do you want me to back off?”

“No!” E.J. said vehemently. “I love you, too, Herc. I’m just scared I’m going to lose you because I’m not…I’m not perfect and I don’t think of myself as heroic or brave, not anymore. Not since an IED hit the truck I was in and the intel indicated it was targeted at me. That’s why my arm is what it is. The year before, they would’ve amputated my arm at my elbow, given me a prosthetic. Instead, I have flesh over metal and nerves and muscle that mostly work.”

Herc kissed her sweetly. “My definition of bravery is being able to keep on going after something like that happens to you. I happen to think that you’re very brave, E.J.”

She let out a breath and tucked her head against his chest as he pulled her close. “Remind me of that every so often, will you? Because I let my mother’s voice get in my head and twenty-four hours later, it’s still what I hear.”

“Then quit listening,” Herc advised. “I’m not going to leave you, E.J. Not unless you tell me we’re done.”

E.J. was quiet a moment before she spoke again. “No. I don’t want to go home tonight, Herc. Any way you can swing it so I have some clean clothes to wear to work tomorrow?”

Herc grinned. “Let me show you where the laundry facilities are.”

Startled, E.J. looked at him. “You mean the quartermaster doesn’t do your laundry?”

“Linens, towels, dress uniforms, and anything grease-stained or likewise stained go to the quartermaster, but everything else, we do our own. You’ve just not seen me do it because Chuck and I usually trade off, and we like having our weekends free, so we usually do it on Tuesday nights.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Plus we discovered since I moved out that we’d developed a really bad habit of sharing clothes ever since he grew into his adult size.”

E.J.’s lips curved. “Did the press ever do one of those ‘look, jaeger pilots are just like us’ pieces?”

“On the Beckets, yeah,” Herc said as he gathered up his laundry supplies. “Raleigh and Yancy were perfect for that kind of shit; the PR people liked that they could be packaged as All-American boys.”

“Because they were good looking?”

“And both of them were charming, affable, and always gracious,” Herc said. “They fit a certain perception and they knew it, so they played it up for the media.”

“And Raleigh still does,” E.J. murmured. “But it’s not who he is.”

Herc shook his head. “Not entirely, no. He’s not the guy he was before his brother died.” Changing the subject, Herc asked, “Do you have a preference on what you want to wash?”

“Um, hold on,” E.J. said and was soon distracted by the need to figure out laundry.


	27. Chapter 27

Much to the more experienced immortals’ frustration, Chuck was once again targeted at the PPDC holiday party the following week. Naresh tried a second time, as if hoping familiarity would count for something. Jeremy and his team had been warned, however, and didn’t let him past the gate.

“He walked back to the city and used a whipperwill’s call to communicate with a second party, the blonde we saw before,” Matthew said, sitting in the security office with Richie and Herc after the party was over. Herc had overridden Chuck’s protests about being excluded with the admonition that Raleigh needed him more. “She picked him at the train station. Whoever is controlling their strings knows we’d go looking the moment we sensed an immortal sitting just outside the gates.”

“And the range on my ability to see one without sensing him prior to coming within range is only about a block bigger than here to the front gates.”

“Another of your tricks?” Herc asked.

Richie nodded. “Never take the head of a healer, a witch, or a holy person unless you’ve no other choice,” he advised Herc. “I thought I was being merciful; she gave me a few presents in the process.”

Matthew slanted him a look. “You helped Avelaine, then. I’ve wondered if it was you or Nick; she was a good friend before World War II. Thank you, even if it’s changed you.”

“That was me, yes. Nick can’t just take someone’s head; he needs more reasons than I do. I know that makes me sound like a killer,” he apologized to Herc, “but Avelaine had been tortured by her abuser; even with immortal healing, she’d have been disabled, unable to defend herself. That’s not how she wanted to live.”

Matthew drew in a sharp breath. “Now I’m really sorry I didn’t handle that one myself, but I couldn’t get to Paris in time.”

“If I’d known it was you who issued the SOS, I’d have asked for more details. My only regret is that I wish I’d had some warning she had those abilities, but,” Richie shrugged, “water under the bridge.”

“Doesn’t sound like anything you could sustain for a while, then,” Herc noted.

Richie shook his head. “Five minutes, tops, and if I do it for longer than that, I get cross-eyed and disoriented. Any chance you could lean on Dylan, Herc? I know she’s your Watcher.”

Herc shook his head. “Not my style, Richie. You know that. She’s split enough hairs on my behalf as it is, and that’s just on the PPDC side. I don’t want to know what she has and hasn’t reported to the Watchers – but given her fondness for Chuck, I wouldn’t be surprised if she waited to report he was immortal, too.”

“Watchers?” Matthew asked.

“The peeping Toms with tattoos,” Richie said dryly. “The ones with a non-interference oath? One of whom I owe my life to? They paid Joe back for that and a few other favors he paid to me and Duncan MacLeod by calling for his death; almost caused a major war. Surely you’ve met yours?”

“Ah, yes. I thought that’s whom you meant. I agree with you, Herc; let’s not put Dylan in a potentially lethal situation where she can’t say she made her own choices without an immortal coercing her, like what they did with Richie’s Joe. Let me do some checking and I’ll get back to you as soon as I have confirmation, but this sounds like –”

“A really fucking bad setup,” Herc said, putting his head down in his arms briefly. “Like the kind of shit my brother Scott would pull.” To Matthew, he said, “Scott once thought that if he slept with an immortal who wanted my head, the immortal would leave me and Chuck alone. Wound up getting a call on Scott’s cell phone naming a time and place for the challenge.”

“Scott’s known you’re immortal?” Matthew asked.

“Can’t hide much of anything in the Drift. All you can do is not let the memories grab a hold and become the RABIT – random access brain input trigger - you chase.”

“Where is he now?”

“Max security prison in Sydney, suffering from the long-term effects of kaiju blue fever drug abuse. As for why he’s in prison in the first place – sorry, I can’t tell you that, but I’ll say the sentence barely fits the crime. Fuck. Should’ve found a way to end his misery a while ago. Every report I get tells me he’s dying by inches.”

“Could you have done it quietly?” Matthew asked.

“No,” Herc said, shaking his head. “Taking a head in a challenge is one thing. Killing my brother for being an idiot…well, I nearly did it once in anger. If it weren’t for a kaiju needing to be eliminated first, I might’ve…and regretted it. I can’t put him out of his misery; some part of me knows if I ever did, I’d be the one to lose something I won’t ever get back.”

“Then that’s a no, and since that’s the case, I don’t recommend you go down that road,” Matthew noted quietly. “You’re right in thinking you lose something you can’t ever get back. Has Scott ever tried to hurt you?”

“Nothing deliberate, more like…thinking through to the consequences stopped mattering to him after he realized being a jaeger pilot meant he could have anything he wanted except immortality and Chuck’s respect. Mine, well, mine stopped mattering pretty much the first time we killed kaiju and weren’t in a jaeger together.”

“I’ll make some calls,” Matthew said. “But given that description, it wouldn’t be in his self-interest to expose you. People would kill him for not trading on it sooner, for one thing. He still has some currency for being one of the few jaeger pilots still alive.”

“That still doesn’t give us any information to narrow down who’s targeting my son,” Herc said in frustration.

“Let me do some research,” Matthew suggested. “Richie, if you can spare the time?”

“Some. Not as much as when we were hunting for who targeted me in Belize.” He shot Herc a wry look. “Marshal here wants the crews ready for a January launch, which means we’re doing more work than we used to, which means I get to do more paperwork. Plus, Christmas is next Friday, and I haven’t gone shopping for the little gifts I like to give my crew.”

Matthew half-smiled. “I’ll take whatever you can spare. Herc, it may come down to taking the bait. You’ll want to discuss that with Chuck.”

“Will do, but if it’s all the same to you, let’s not do this on Christmas or Boxing Day if we can. Getting a Quickening is not an ideal holiday present.”

“Agreed.”

“Thanks, Matthew. And you’re welcome to crash in the guest suite if you wind up being here all night. I’ll let the security on duty know so they’ll know to direct you to the right room.”

“Appreciate it, and I’ll take you up on it. Good night, Herc.”

“Night, Matthew, Richie, and thanks.”


	28. Chapter 28

Richie looked up at the sound of boots in time to see a member of PPDC security escorting E.J. to his office just inside the jaeger bay. Like similiar spaces the world over, Richie’s office was part workshop, part office, and he shared it with his counterpart in the jaeger maintenance department, Eli Davies.

“Thank you,” E.J. said to the officer.

“I’ll just wait outside, ma’am,” the officer said politely.

“I’m not interrupting at a bad time, am I?” E.J. asked, seeing he had a computer on and was working on reviewing data.

Richie quickly closed the program he’d had running, secured the computer, and rose to his feet. “Nothing that can’t wait for a pretty lady like you.”

E.J. smiled. “I can come back later, if it’s a problem.”

“Triple-checking information I already submitted,” Richie admitted sheepishly. “Bad habit of mine when I get bored. I could use a distraction.”

“Oh, good. Herc said you were his best friend and I could use that kind of insight.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to ask Chuck?” Richie asked carefully. “Nobody knows him better.”

“I don’t want him accidentally tipping off Herc. I know they can feel each other’s emotions; I’ve seen them text each other when they’re apart, checking.”

“I take it this is not your ordinary Christmas gift,” Richie said.

E.J. nodded. “I think it’s pretty awesome you’ve been able to teach them such a specialized martial art as sword fighting, and that you continue to train with them. It just seems like I should be able to give Herc something to honor that.”

“Not to dim your enthusiasm, but that’s usually my gift,” Richie said gently. “What they need in that area usually requires a custom order from a leatherworking friend of mine.”

“Oh,” E.J. said, disappointed. “Any suggestions, then?”

“A better shaving kit,” Richie said dryly. “Due to cost, the PPDC cut back on how much it was spending on razors. I’m sure you like the look but not the feeling.”

“Um, yeah,” E.J. said, cheeks flaming. “Never occurred to me Herc might need better stuff. I, um, thought he was just a scruffy kind of guy on the days he didn’t have public appearances.”

Richie shook his head. “He probably was trying to save on razor blades. I know a place in the city that sells fine quality men’s shaving supplies,” Richie told her. “If you don’t mind being on the back of a motorcycle, I can take you.”

E.J. shook her head. “I don’t have the grip strength in my left hand and forearm that I used to have before I was injured.”

“Not a problem,” Richie said easily. “We can have Trevor drive us.”

“I hate being a bother –”

“E.J., get used to being treated like minor royalty. You’re dating the marshal of the PPDC. Which means I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen; I need to grab my wallet and change my clothes.” He leaned out and spoke to the PPDC security officer, who turned out to be Trevor, letting him know the plan.

E.J. acquiesced, though she couldn’t see what was wrong with the denim work uniform Richie wore. It wasn’t until he stepped into the lobby wearing khaki pants, a dress shirt, and a lightweight leather jacket that she realized the subtle difference. Having been an interpreter in combat conditions, she understood the value of perception.

“Worried they’ll think you can’t afford anything they sell?” E.J. asked him as they stepped into the town car.

“Yes,” Richie agreed readily. “Because I made that mistake the first time I went there.”

It didn’t take them long to get to the upscale shopping center where the men’s grooming supplies was located. E.J. was pleased to find their prices weren’t as expensive as she’d feared, and the gift set she found was both practical and straightforward: a razor with long-lasting, quality blades, a razor pit sharpener, a foaming shave gel, and a moisturizing shave cream. She noticed that Richie took the opportunity to buy a few gifts of his own as well as replenish his own supplies.

“Was there anything else you wanted to buy while we’re here?” Richie asked as they emerged from the store with their purchases.

E.J. shook her head, then reconsidered. “I probably should get Chuck something. Does he already know about this shop?”

Richie nodded. “Took him here last week.”

“Hmm, well, then a gift card would work so he can pick whatever,” E.J. mused, and went back and purchased that item.

She rejoined Richie a few minutes later, looking pleased. “Thank you. And since I have your full attention, may I ask your indulgence a little more?”

“What did you have in mind?”

E.J. nodded to the lingerie store a few stores away. “Something to make up for the fact I’m telling my boyfriend I don’t like his scruff so much.”

Richie laughed. “Lead on, E.J.”

E.J. looked at him, surprised, as they walked to the store. “You don’t mind?”

“My guardian’s girlfriend was French. Tessa taught me that if a man can’t appreciate a woman in whatever she’s wearing, then he’s not really worth the label. I don’t want you to model the stuff for me – that’s Herc’s privilege – but I don’t mind going with you into the store. It’s just underwear. How you wear it and who you wear it for determines whether it’s sexy or practical or a bit of both.”

“So it is,” E.J. murmured. “How come no one’s snatched you up?”

Richie’s smile dimmed. “Oh, people have tried. I just…keep wanting to do big things with my life, and it doesn’t always work out for them.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Eh, I’m not worried.”

Still, Richie noted that E.J. didn’t linger too long, heading directly to the cashier stand to speak a clerk and ask for suggestions. Half an hour later, her purchase complete, E.J. rejoined Richie.

“I have one last favor to ask,” E.J. said.

“Which is?”

“Help me hide these somewhere in the Shatterdome? I don’t really want to go all the way back to my apartment for them.”

“I can do that,” Richie agreed, smiling. The instinct that came from being battle-honed player in the Game, capable of things that were unusual even by immortal standards, was starting to sound in his head. He glanced around, not seeing anything out of place, but certain that _something_ was. “But let’s head on back. My stomach’s reminding me I skipped lunch.”

“Doesn’t your body know that you’re not a growing boy?”

“Not really, no,” Richie said distractedly, trying to pinpoint the source of wrongness. He reached out with his Quickening, trying to see if he could use it to find trouble, another trick he’d learned from taking the head of a woman who’d once been a healer, only to be driven mad and disabled by an abuser. He’d thought he’d been giving her a mercy killing; she’d rewarded his mercy by showing him what he could do with his Quickening.

It took what felt like minutes, but he knew was mere seconds, to find the source of wrongness. Just at the periphery of his awareness, a dark-haired man in a trench coat sat on one of the shopping center’s benches, talking with Naresh and looking disappointed.

_“So just the marshal’s girlfriend and the cousin, the one that’s like me?” the man asked Naresh._

_“Yes, Mr. Collingridge,” Naresh said. “The one you said not to touch because he’s too strong.”_

_“Thank you, Naresh.” Collingridge said, disappointed. “We’ll wait until after Christmas, then. Spirit of the holiday and all that.”_

**_Found you, you bastard. You won’t win this round_** , Richie thought.

“Something wrong? You look a little pale.”

“Low blood sugar,” Richie claimed, taking a breath and pulling his awareness back in. He was going to have to talk to Matthew as soon as they got back, he thought, see if he could find out who Collingridge was.

“Then let’s get you home. We should’ve eaten before we left anyway,” E.J. said briskly.

“Where’s the fun in that? I prefer racing my stomach and seeing how much I don’t spend.”

E.J. laughed. The trip home was completed without incident, but Richie knew the other immortal, whoever he was, wouldn’t be content with waiting for long.


	29. Chapter 29

“You never write, you never call, you leave me to find out via social media you’re dating the marshal of the PPDC, am I not your best friend anymore?”

E.J. snagged the call mid-voicemail. “Sorry, Bianca,” she said apologetically. “But I thought you were still in D.C. and I figured you wouldn’t appreciate me calling you at 2 AM your time.”

“All right, but you couldn’t send me an email? Text? Sheez, girl, you act as if I might as well be on another planet. You used to call me on Mondays, remember? Lunch time for you, early evening for me?”

“Sorry,” E.J. apologized again. “Between work and dating Herc and getting sick, I’ve been distracted.”

“Well, it’s Monday of Christmas week,” Bianca said practically. “Surely you can spare me the time? Unless you’re being Miss Workaholic again?”

E.J. blew out a breath and settled a little more comfortably in her desk chair. “Not really. So how are you, Bianca?”

“Still in D.C., living the Beltway life,” Bianca said wryly. “Please tell me that Hercules Hansen is a true redhead before we talk about my work, okay?”

E.J. stared at the phone, abruptly remembering why she hadn’t missed talking to the other woman. “Why? So you can perv on my boyfriend some more?”

“Geez, E.J., sometimes I swear you never took that hajib off. War was over for us a long time ago or have you forgotten?”

“Leave hajibs and your prejudiced opinions out of it,” E.J. snapped. “I haven’t called you because I knew one of your first questions would be about Herc’s body. Your second would involve his prowess in bed. And your third would be whether his son’s still single.”

“Well, is he?”

“Taken and gay,” E.J. shot back. “So as long as you’re just admiring the merchandise in the window, Bianca, I’ll tell you this. A real friend would’ve called me weeks ago to ask me how I was – no matter what the time of day. It occurs to me that I was always the one to call you, not the other way around. So have a nice life, Miss Jamison. As you said, the war was over for us a long time ago, and I don’t need my battle buddy anymore.”

E.J. hung up, feeling strangely liberated. Without letting herself think about it, she dialed Dylan.

“Pan Pacific Defense Corps, Deputy Marshal Carrodus speaking,” Dylan greeted.

“Am I supposed to feel like I just shed a thousand pounds by hanging up on my former best friend when she asked me if Herc was a true ginger, as you’d say?”

Dylan laughed. “Depends. Have you missed talking to her since the last time you spoke?”

“No.”

“Then yes, you just lost an elephant.”

“Good.” E.J.’s lips curved. “Because I think I’d rather have friends who understand the person I’m dating, not the merchandise in the window.”

“Does that mean I can count on you to help me corral Herc and Chuck? They claim they don’t have any real traditions, but they tend to take off on a motorcycle ride together on Christmas afternoon.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I could interrupt that family tradition,” E.J. said seriously. “Especially since I’m sure Herc will ask me if I want to ride with him, and I heard a rumor he might have borrowed a Goldwing so I don’t have to worry about holding on as much.”

“Ah, well it was worth a shot,” Dylan said, the shrug clear in her voice. “But if they’re fashionably late to dinner again like they were last year, I’m crossing you off my gift list.”

E.J. laughed. “And here I was thinking there wasn’t one. Unless you’re everyone’s Secret Santa?”

“Um, oops?”

Laughing, E.J. said, “I’ll see you at dinner, Dylan, and thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome, E.J.”

Across the city, the buxom blonde bombshell known as Bianca Jamieson stared at her cell phone, eyes narrowing. How dare E.J. slam that door shut on her? Well, there was more than one way to get into enemy headquarters.

“No luck?” Naresh asked her as he lounged on the bed in their motel room.

“No. Bitch clammed up.” She studied Naresh. “It doesn’t bother you what Collingridge’s asked you to do?”

“It’s just a stupid dog. Million bucks would pay for a damn good life, you know that,” Naresh said with a shrug. “Besides. Chuck Hansen’s just a washed-up jaeger pilot. Immortality’s wasted on him now that the kaiju are gone. Collingridge swears he knows how to transfer it to us. Isn’t that enough?”

Bianca smiled wolfishly. “Yeah. You and me, we’re going to rule the world.”

“Not interested in ruling the world,” Naresh demurred. “Just want to get rid of a guy who should’ve been sent off to pasture already. Who needs more jaegers? We never needed them before the kaiju came.”

“So what will you do with that money?” Bianca asked.

Naresh smiled pleasantly. “Oh, my dear Bianca, wouldn’t you love to know.”

“So you keep telling me,” Bianca said, annoyed. “Fine, don’t tell me.”

“I won’t,” Naresh promised her in the same tone of voice he’d use to order pizza.

For a moment, Bianca paused, wondering for the first time if perhaps she’d made a mistake in answering the online job ad for someone of her skills and background. She’d already suffered the indignity of being arrested once, and Collingsridge had made it clear that if she did it again, he wouldn’t bail her out. She really needed the money, though, and getting fired from her job in DC had been the last straw. _Not everyone could be E.J. Seiler_ , she thought crossly, _parlaying their military skills into a high-level corporate job. Some of us, she thought, had **issues** requiring **medication**._

As if on cue, Naresh held out the unmarked pill bottle to her and a glass of water. “Why don’t you lay down and sleep, Bianca?” he asked as she took the pill. “You’ll feel better.”

“Yeah okay,” she said agreeably and lay down, fully clothed, on the dingy bed.

Naresh silently sneered at her as she closed her eyes. “Stupid, trusting bitch. You never asked which dog Collingsridge wanted me to kill,” he proclaimed once she was dead, and wiped every surface clean before exiting the room. Once clear of the hotel, he joined Collingsridge in a better hotel in the next neighborhood. “Your Christmas present has been delivered,” he told the immortal.

“Excellent,” Collingsridge said, and petted Naresh’s shoulder as one would a dog. “Have a seat; I’ve ordered us room service.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~If I screwed up on the French, please let me know and I'll happily correct it; this is what I got from SYSTRANet and Google Translate.~~  
>  Thank you to Shu-Han for the French edits!

Rumor did hold true: Tuesday evening, Herc borrowed a Honda Goldwing cruiser from a local dealer to see if E.J. would like sitting in the passenger seat. Even with assistance from Chuck, E.J. found she didn’t like the feeling of being squished into such a small space. Shrugging philosophically, Herc kissed her. “Didn’t know until we tried,” he said. “And I figured it would be easier to bring the bike here than you to the bike, so you wouldn’t be embarrassed by everyone watching.”

“Thank you,” E.J. said gratefully. “I’m wishing I could ride with you, mind, but I just don’t feel like I’d be able to hang on.”

“I understand,” Herc said. “I’ll be back in an hour, okay? I need to return this. Chuck’ll bring me back on his bike.”

“I’ll be waiting,” E.J. assured him. She knew her physical limits, and was pleased to see that Herc didn’t think less of her for saying no.

Christmas turned out to be much like family dinner had been the first time, though with the addition of presents, and Matthew Salisbury had been invited to join them since he’d otherwise be alone. E.J. loved the Shatterdome’s ideas of gifting. The new jaeger pilots had gotten together and given her a ‘welcome to the Shatterdome survival kit,’ compromised tellingly of chocolate, a jar of unpopped popcorn, a microwave popcorn popper, a deck of playing cards, and a sticker for her badge that said ‘Essential Personnel’ and in fine print ‘for the marshal’s sanity.’ E.J. took it in the comedic spirit it was meant. Raleigh, Mako, Hu, Grace, Victoria, Newt, Hermann, Dylan, Ryan, Jeremy, and Eli had gone together on a gift certificate for the spa at the Four Seasons Hotel for both E.J. and Herc. Chuck’s gifts were more personal – a gorgeous pashmina shawl for E.J. and new cufflinks for Herc. Not having expected such generosity, E.J. had only purchased gifts for Herc and Chuck, and was quickly assured that as long as she was willing to share the popcorn, she was forgiven. Chuck appreciated having a gift certificate, teasingly claiming that Raleigh had liberated some of what he’d previously purchased. Herc loved his new shaving set, and sheepishly admitted that yes, he’d been scrimping on his razor blades.

In the privacy of Herc’s quarters, E.J. modeled the ruby-colored camisole-and-tap-pant set she’d purchased. Herc enjoyed the view very much and proved that she was indeed quite forgiven for pointing out he could’ve just gone and bought new supplies now that the war was over. He added that while he loved her out of the lingerie, he appreciated the way the satin looked on her. E.J. fell deeper in love.

Boxing Day morning, E.J. woke up before Herc did. Not quite ready to go into the mess hall, she dressed in slacks and a casual top before she followed impulse and went to the jaeger viewing deck. Her steps slowed as she heard voices; it sounded like Matthew and Richie. Some instinct made her stop short of entering the area.

“You going to tell them today?” Matthew asked.

Richie sighed. “How the fuck am I supposed to deliver news like that? You heard what Herc said. He wants to hold onto the illusion of peace for one more day. I can do this and be back in time for dinner.”

“Yes, but do you want to?”

Richie sighed. “Not the first time I played the Game to protect what’s mine.”

“You’re not doing Chuck any favors by shielding him from this.”

“Is it so wrong? J'aime ma famille et je veux les protéger, particulièrement contre les immortels qui pensent qu'ils sont d'une certaine manière la clé pour gagner le jeu; English just doesn’t convey the sentiment properly.”

Matthew barked a laugh at that. “Et particulièrement Herc?”

“Il est le frère de mon coeur,” Richie replied without hesitation. “Si on en arrive à ça, je mourrai pour le protéger, lui et son fils.”

“Et tu ne veux rien d'autre que son amitié? J'ai vu la manière dont tu le regardes.”

“Non, ça n'a jamais été un bon temps; Je ne suis pas sure qu'il serait intéressé a essayer d'être avec un homme comme Raleigh l'est, Matthew. Laisse-le être en amour avec un mortel, et je me contenterai d'être à son côté en tant que son meilleur homme.”

“You know I come from the age where ‘best man’ meant ‘being ready to use a sword.’”

“I know,” Richie said, grinning abruptly. “I meant it that way.”

“Then don’t die,” Matthew said mildly. “Herc and Chuck aren’t the only ones who’d miss you. I really don’t want to have to explain to the MacLeods why you lost your head when I was right here.”

“And you think I’d enjoy explaining to them why you did? Or to Cory?”

“I’m older than they are,” Matthew said firmly. “Besides. I’m almost certain your presence is required at breakfast; Chuck and Raleigh looked like they might be up to mischief this morning, judging from their conversation at dinner. Tell Herc thank you again for including me in dinner last night. If you don’t hear from me by 2 pm today –”

“I’ll come hunting,” Richie assured him.

Realizing she had to leave before being seen, E.J. hurried back the way she’d came, grateful that the ballet flats she’d worn kept her footsteps silent. Her mind was racing – what did Matthew and Richie mean by ‘losing a head’ and what was going on? E.J. didn’t understand French, but she recognized it from a childhood trip with her mother to Congo. She hadn’t known Richie was fluent, but E.J. remembered his comment about his guardian’s girlfriend being French; it would make sense if she’d taught him. Questions swirled in her mind as little things suddenly took on deeper significance.

Deciding she needed coffee before she went back to Herc’s room, E.J. headed to the mess hall. She found her path to coffee blocked by Chuck and Raleigh, who were enthusiastically kissing each other.

“Gentlemen should never stand between a lady and her coffee,” E.J. said sternly and tried not to grin. Matthew’s assessment of mischief was right on target, she thought.

As if they’d choreographed it, Chuck lifted Raleigh, who clamped his legs around Chuck’s waist, and they moved out of her way, still kissing.

Laughing, E.J. reminded them tartly, “Go find a room. I know between the two of you, you have two you can choose from, neither of them anywhere where I’m watching. I’m no prude, but really?”

Finally, Raleigh broke the kiss, laughing. “Sorry, E.J.” He looked at Chuck. “You heard the lady.”

“Heard, acknowledged, and wondering why said lady’s not with my old man right now,” Chuck replied. “Everything okay, E.J.?”

“Just…feels different this morning.” E.J. shook her head and grabbed a second mug. “I forget. Does your dad take sugar and cream or just sugar?”

“Straight black. I’m the one with the horrendous sweet tooth. Also, he prefers tea. Should be a whole set up in the kitchenette for it unless he’s gone through it already. Plus coffee.”

E.J. eyed him.

“No lie,” Chuck swore. “He only learned to drink coffee because every military in the world runs on coffee, usually black.”

“And you’re lucky if you get powdered creamer,” E.J. murmured. “Thank you. Aren’t your arms getting tired?”

“Nah, nothing like being in a jaeger,” Chuck said.

“He could hold me like this all day,” Raleigh added. “But,” he considered. “Probably shouldn’t.” He climbed down easily. “Since you have our attention, is there anything you wanted to ask us?”

“Why swords, Chuck? Why not just knives and handguns, or I don’t know, more jaeger bushido?”

“You know the old man served in Iraq?”

E.J. nodded.

“He saw a ton of combat, flying helicopters there,” Chuck said easily. “So he’d rather not point guns at people ever again. When he joined the PPDC, he was a brawler, not a martial artist. Richie was brought in to teach the old man and my uncle advanced marital arts; the hope was that they’d have a jaeger pilot team who were both universally compatible and able to move smoothly, whether they were with each other or someone else. Unfortunately, my uncle wasn’t nearly as universally compatible or that good of a student.”

“And what advantage does it give you now to know it?”

“Clarity of purpose,” Chuck said cryptically. “My old man’s wondering where you are; you should get back before he gets more worried.”

“Before I do,” E.J. said, looking at Raleigh, “may I ask what happened to you?”

Raleigh nodded. “You can ask,” he returned evenly. “However, I really think my story’s not nearly as interesting and can wait.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t want to be the cause of the marshal’s distress.”

Curious now, E.J. headed back, abandoning the second mug in favor of sipping on the coffee she’d managed to pour for herself.

She found Herc waiting for her, looking worried. “Love, you don’t have to go all the way down to the mess hall for coffee.”

“So Chuck said.” Wide awake now, she studied him, still rumpled slightly from sleep, but poised in a way she recognized from her years in battle: two seconds away from throwing on clothes and running into the fray. “You couldn’t be bothered to mention it before?”

“Figured you’d found it and decided you liked the mess hall’s coffee better,” Herc said with a half-shrug. “Forgive me for being worried?”

“I doubt seriously I could get lost in this place.” She finished her coffee and set the mug in the sink.

“Chuck taught me when he was thirteen that yes, you can, and successfully win at hide-and-seek, so….”

Amused, E.J. asked, “He was that much trouble to raise?” She moved to sit on the bed and discard her flats.

“Oh yeah,” Herc agreed fervently. “But I wouldn’t trade him for another kid. He’s my son and my copilot.” He looked at her. “You look like you woke up with questions again. You know you can ask me anything.”

“The sword training…it’s not a hobby for you and Chuck is it? If it were a hobby, you’d let people watch sometimes. But the only people you’ve let in are Matthew and sometimes, I hear, Grace, but no one else. Why’s that?”

Herc exhaled slowly before answering. “Because we can’t trust that everyone will appreciate the magic or the seriousness.”

“Magic?” She stared at him. “Is that why Matthew and Richie were talking in French this morning on the jaeger observation deck? They said something about how you and Chuck wouldn’t be the only ones upset if Richie lost his head. Then Richie said that he wasn’t looking forward to explaining it if Matthew did. What’s going on, Hercules? Because every instinct I have for danger is screaming right now.”

Herc closed his eyes briefly. “Don’t suppose you’d let the guy who loves you shield you from it a while longer?”

“Not if he wants me to keep on respecting him. I fought in that same sandbox you did, Herc, maybe at the same time for all we’ll ever know. I came home mostly intact, and that includes what happened to my forearm. Did you?”

“No,” Herc said. “I died. Sniper took me out; they tell me I managed to hang on to the controls long enough to let my copilot take over, and they dragged me back in the back of the helicopter to save me.”

“So the medics brought you back. What’s that got to do with swords and what Richie and Matthew were talking about?”

“I can’t do this in this bed,” Herc muttered. “I can’t ruin this room that way. Can you wait for me to get dressed, and we’ll go down to the kwoon?”

“Why not here?”

Herc got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, the same ones E.J. remembered enjoying the sight of him in the day prior. “Because then you’ll never want to be here, and right now, I’d like to make sure at least one of us does.”

“All right,” E.J. conceded.

“Thank you.” Herc picked up his phone and typed a quick text, no doubt to Chuck, before sliding his feet into a pair of flip-flops, pulling on an olive green t-shirt, and picking up his duffel bag. He waited for her to put on her flats before leading her out of the room. From the way his face looked, E.J. could see that whatever explanation he planned on giving her wasn’t something he took lightly. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d stumbled onto a secret that everyone had been keeping from her. It wasn’t a feeling she liked very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French translations:
> 
>  _J'aime ma famille et veux les protéger, particulièrement contre les immortels qui pensent qu'ils sont d'une certaine manière la clé à gagner le jeu._  
>  I love my family and want to protect them, especially from immortals who think they're somehow the key to winning the Game.
> 
>  _Et particulièrement Herc?_  
>  And especially Herc?
> 
>  _Il est le frère de mon coeur. Si on en arrive à ça, je mourrai pour le protéger, lui et son fils._  
>  He's the brother of my heart. If it comes to it, I will die to protect him and his son.
> 
>  _Et tu ne veux rien d'autre que son amitié? J'ai vu la manière dont tu le regardes._  
>  And you don't want anything more than his friendship? I've seen the way you look at him.
> 
>  _Non, ça n'a jamais été un bon temps; Je ne suis pas sure qu'il serait intéressé a essayer d'être avec un homme comme Raleigh l'est, Matthew. Laisse-le être en amour avec un mortel, et je me contenterai d'être à son côté en tant que son meilleur homme._  
>  Never been a good time; not sure he'd be as willing to try being with a guy as Raleigh is, Matthew. Let him be in love with a mortal, and I'll content myself with standing by his side as his best man.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know whether to post a tissue warning or not here, folks.

E.J. half-expected to see Chuck, and wasn’t surprised to see him meet them at the door to the kwoon. He unlocked it for them and followed them inside before pulling the door shut and standing guard.

Herc gestured for her to remove her shoes before joining him on the mat. From the duffel bag, he removed two items: the boot knife she’d seen him slide into his boots, and a broadsword; both items were sheathed in black leather sheaves. He set the sword down on the mat, and then held the knife, clearly hesitating.

She eyed him warily. “Just tell me, Herc. I’m not incapable of figuring whatever this is out…eventually.”

“I know,” Herc said, sounding resigned. “I love that you’re a smart, capable, brave woman. I love you. This sword and this knife…what they represent…” He exhaled slowly before finishing with, “tangles me up. It’s saved my life; it’s been the reason Chuck and I fought and couldn’t talk about anything that wasn’t about fighting kaiju or jaegers or the PPDC.”

E.J. glanced back at Chuck, who nodded somberly.

“It’s brought me friends for life and enemies I never wanted. I’ve always tried to live a good life and do the right thing for the greater good. I always figured I could get away with being arrogant as long as I was doing that kind of service.” Herc swallowed hard, as if fighting to remain in control of his emotions, but his face reflected every nuance of how much this meant to him. “I wanted to shield you from this because it’s my nature to protect the people I love. I didn’t tell Chuck for years, and only when I had to. He reacted violently. I hope you don’t, E.J. Because once I show you, you can’t go back and pretend you never saw it. And I’ll understand if, after this, you never want to be with me again, but I need you to swear you’ll never tell anyone, because it could mean my death. Not everyone needs to know that some legends are true.”

E.J. stared at him. “What, you’re really the Hercules of Greek myth?”

“No,” Herc said as he removed the boot knife from its sheath. “Except the immortal upon death part of the myth.”

E.J. looked at him as if he was crazy. “Come on, nobody’s immortal.”

“Hold my left hand,” Herc requested.

Wondering where he was going with this, E.J. did as he requested. He extended the limb, and stepped back slightly. Without preamble, he sliced his arm open, cutting it deep in a wound E.J. knew from personal experience would require multiple stitches and surgery to repair.

“What the hell?” E.J. started to say, only to fall silent as she watched little bolts of lightning stitch the wound up as if it had never occurred. The smell of ozone was heavy in the air, and she looked back at the knife to see if there was blood on it. “What….what are you?” Horrified, she dropped his hand and looked at Herc.

“My name is Hercules Hansen,” Herc said strongly. “I was born in Sydney in 1980. In February 2008, I was shot and killed in Iraq. For six years, I was convinced the medics performed a miracle on me. Then I joined the PPDC and became a jaeger pilot. Just before graduation, two swords masters were invited to the Jaeger Academy to demonstrate ruthlessness to the final group of cadets. Their real intent was to find who among the cadets was immortal like them so they could train them personally.”

E.J. stared at Herc’s arm. “It’s like you never cut yourself. And you…you’re not scarring.”

“No, I’ll never again scar. If you were to stab me dead right now, I’d revive. I’ll heal from nearly any wound, which is the immortal part.”

E.J. eyed him as Chuck tossed a towel to Herc, which Herc caught and used to wipe up the blood that had dripped to the mat. That task complete, Herc wiped the knife clean before sheathing it. “So what’s the ‘nearly’ part?”

“Cut my head off and I’m dead permanently.”

E.J.’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

Shocked, E.J. stared at him. “That’s…that’s what Matthew and Richie were talking about, weren’t they? Someone’s after you and that’s why Matthew’s here, to help you keep things secure.” Her gaze swiveled to the sword on the mat. “That’s why the sword, isn’t it? Is this something you can inherit?”

“Not usually. Chuck’s lucky that way.”

E.J. turned to look at Chuck. "That's why you survived the detonation of your jaeger and aren’t disabled like Hu.”

“Yes. I’m the exception that proves the rule.”

“Both of you…Matthew and Richie…Oh my God.” Her hand rose to cover her mouth and she lifted her gaze to stare at Herc, alarmed and appalled in the same breath. “Please tell me this is war, not murder.”

“A private one, yes. The kind no government would sanction and Interpol sees as murder. We call it the Game, but it’s a genocide.”

“But why?” E.J. demanded.

“Power,” Herc said heavily. “The winner of the Game will have enough knowledge and skills to rule the world, because he or she will have defeated every other immortal and downloaded everything they’ve known straight to his or her brain.”

“And you’re a target because of your leadership role in the PPDC?” E.J. said, scrambling to find justifications.

“Among other reasons. One time it was because I was the other immortal in the bar.”

“That’s…that’s murder. I can’t…I can’t do this, Herc. I can’t stand here with…whatever the hell you all are and act like it’s okay,” she said, shaking her head as her convictions lent strength to her voice. “I promised myself that when I left the Army, I’d leave all the blood and killing and half-truths and…and _war_ behind. I’m sorry.”

Herc looked at her, tears in his eyes. “There’s nothing I can say to convince you it’s worth it?”

E.J. shook her head again. “No,” she said, and now her voice cracked slightly as her heart broke. “I don’t want those kinds of nightmares again. It took me too long to find sanity and peace. I can’t and won’t go there again. I won’t say anything to anyone about…all you’ve told me, but I can’t live this fight with you. Am I correct in assuming you’re preparing for one? That’s why you told me there’s a stalker?”

“Yes,” Herc said.

“I…I _can’t_ stand by and do this. I’m –” she bit her lower lip, hating that she had to admit one more weakness “– I’m out of that kind of strength, do you understand? I’m not that brave, not anymore. All that I can think of right now is that you need someone stronger than me, someone who can fight beside you the way I think you need. I don’t want to learn either, if that’s something you’re considering. I just want to rebuild what’s been lost to one war; I didn’t volunteer to be part of one I never knew existed until now. I won’t be party to this…this insanity. I can’t stay here. I’m sorry.”

Herc exhaled slowly and tried to smile, but she could see he wasn’t feeling it. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Do you want any help packing?”

E.J. shook her head. “No. I assume protocol states a member of your security will be shepherding me out?”

Herc nodded. “For what it’s worth, E.J., if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Be safe.”

E.J. inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement of his words. She was surprised to see that, rather than the chief of security, a middle-aged woman whose name badge identified her as Poppy Goddard, deputy chief of security, was the one to accompany her. E.J. hadn’t yet fully moved in – she’d intended to spend New Year’s weekend doing that – so packing didn’t take long. Poppy kept a poker face the entire time.

“Can I ask you something?” E.J. asked as she turned over her PPDC badge at the front desk and signed the electronic acknowledgment that she no longer had special access to the facility.

“You can ask, Ms. Seiler; I may not answer,” Poppy said.

“How long have you known Herc?”

“My first assignment with the PPDC was to the Hansen family, ma’am, when they were first stationed at what would become the Sydney Shatterdome.”

“Never mind,” E.J. decided. She’d held a vague hope that perhaps the guard would be able to tell her she’d just imagined Herc to be a good man, but such loyalty disproved it. “You won’t speak out of turn.”

“No, ma’am, even if I was allowed.” Poppy added briskly, “Marshal Hansen wanted you to know that he’s spoken with your landlord and your intent to vacate notice has been destroyed, so you don’t need to look for new housing right away.”

Startled, for she hadn’t even considered that she’d given notice on her apartment, she looked at the deputy chief of security. “Thank you,” E.J. said, and found herself to be at a loss for words. What kind of man let a woman break his heart and still found the fortitude to make sure she had a home to go back to? Was she making a mistake?

E.J. blinked past tears. She knew she couldn’t stay; it wasn’t safe for her here, not if she valued herself. Swallowing hard, she added, “I can’t believe he would do that.”

Poppy looked at her in understanding. “That’s the kind of man he is, ma’am. We’ve also arranged for a taxi to take you back to your apartment so you’ll be able to go directly home without fighting for space on the train.”

“Thank you,” E.J. said again, and knew she meant goodbye.

* * *

After Poppy escorted E.J. out, Chuck looked at his father. “I thought she was better than that.”

Herc sighed heavily. “Me too. Do me a favor? Would you let everyone know I’m not to be disturbed? I’m going on the roof; I need some air.” Without waiting for Chuck’s reply, Herc picked up his sword, knife, and duffel bag, and left.

Chuck swore viciously; he knew from their ghost drift that his father was heartbroken. He couldn’t find fault in E.J.’s reasons, though, and that was what kept him from running after her and demanding she change her mind.


	32. Chapter 32

Somehow, Herc wasn’t too surprised to see Richie join him on the rooftop observation deck about a half an hour later. Someone – probably Raleigh – had brought up a few patio lounge chairs and a freestanding patio umbrella, so that whoever was sitting on said chairs didn’t completely bake in the sun. Equally unsurprising to Herc was Richie’s offer of whiskey.

“Want some to ease that heartache?” Richie asked as he sat down.

“Getting drunk isn’t going to make me feel any less like I fucked up,” Herc noted quietly.

Richie shrugged. “Who said anything about getting drunk? This is just about making the pain a little less. If I wanted you to get drunk, I’d have brought boom-boom.”

Herc closed his eyes briefly. “I thought E.J. could handle knowing.”

“No, you thought she would want to stick around and support you after you told her. She’s handling knowing about immortality fine, from what Chuck told me. She just doesn’t want any part of it.”

“How is that different?” Herc demanded.

“The difference, Herc, is that you answered her question about what’s going on. You then asked her to accept that the man she’d fallen in love with has blood on his hands and is planning on adding more.” Richie paused. “You and I have gotten past the moral objection to that because we’re both men who hate it when good loses. Most people just see the blood and death.”

Herc blew out a breath. “Do I have to make my next lover pass a psychological screen in addition to a background check? Because this is who I am.”

“Doubt you’ll need to go that far,” Richie told him and passed over the bottle. 

Herc unscrewed the cap and took a healthy swallow. “Yeah, right. Did I ever tell you when Angela and I met, she wasn’t confident? By the time we graduated high school, she believed in herself. I didn't want to go through that again; I thought E.J. was confident and assured.”

“She is,” Richie assured him as Herc passed the bottle back. “She just doesn’t want to undo her therapy.” 

“And that’s the part that sucks the most,” Herc told him as Richie took a sip of whiskey. “Because I get the why. I just wish it wasn’t the reason. Maybe my son’s got the right idea – find someone who understands the Drift and isn’t too freaked about immortality?”

“Oh, Raleigh’s freaked out,” Richie said, passing the bottle to Herc. “I talked to him. He’s just decided that it’s like a rampaging kaiju: until it’s his responsibility to deal with it, he’s fine being out of the loop.”

“Why couldn’t E.J. be like that?” Herc took a sip and passed the bottle back.

Richie shrugged and took a sip of whiskey, licking his lips after he’d done so. “You gambled she could. She told you no.”

Herc heaved a sigh. He prided himself on being able to process situations quickly, and knew that while thoughts of E.J. were going to sting for a while, he was through the worst of it. “Fine. So we getting smashed here or what? Because we still have some headhunting idiot to deal with who’s not gonna care if I just had my heart broken.”

“You have four other immortals who can deal with said headhunter if you just wanted to spend the rest of the day smashed. Grace feels responsible since she introduced you two. She’s not incapable of taking a head, even if she’d prefer to save a life rather than take it,” Richie assured him. “Your son is ready, and Matthew and I are here. Nobody would think less of you if you opted out of this fight.”

“I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I did that and you know it.”

Richie offered him an understanding smile. “Even if letting me and Matthew handle this for you might be the smarter option?”

“Whoever this guy is hasn’t taken the bait that you two are. That tells me he won’t stop until he has Chuck and me. I’m guessing Matthew has gone hunting?”

Richie nodded. “I’m waiting for him to come back, but I can tell you that the idiot’s name is Calen Collingridge du Tornay. He’s not been in the Game long, which explains why he’s latched onto some pretty wild notions.”

“Like how long is ‘not long’?”

“Less than a decade. Remember those two we took out in Sydney, the ones who set up a trap?”

Herc groaned. “They trained someone?”

“Apparently. Collingridge – and I don’t care if it’s not his full name, he’s not here to listen to me mangle it – isn’t content with setting traps. He’s convinced that since you’re immortal, and now that he’s got confirmation that Chuck is, as opposed to the rumors of such, you’re the key to winning the Game.”

“How? Just because Chuck is my son?”

“That’s what Matthew went to find out.”

“Hell of a Boxing Day already, Richie.” Herc studied his old friend. “Can I get a hug? A proper one?"

Richie grinned. "Of course." He stood and spread his arms wide.

Herc rose and stepped into the hug gratefully. "I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Muddle through on sheer Aussie guts and determination?” Richie teased as he hugged Herc tightly.

Herc barked a laugh. “Something like that, yeah.”

Herc leaned into Richie’s embrace shamelessly, needing the simple comfort. How many times had he done this over the years? Herc wondered. Chuck wasn’t the only one who’d missed Richie during the years he’d been gone from their lives. Herc was just slightly taller, broader of shoulder, but he’d always relied on Richie’s wiry strength. “Guess this means I won’t be asking you to be my best man at my wedding.”

“You’ve always had me, Herc,” Richie assured him. 

Hearing a depth of emotion Herc had rarely heard in Richie’s voice, Herc studied him. “Richie?”

“You deserve better than a woman who chose her own happiness over yours, Herc,” Richie said fiercely.

“Maybe I should put out an ad,” Herc joked, then felt Richie flinch. Herc’s eyes narrowed as suddenly years of friendship took on new meaning. “Or maybe I should’ve just asked you.”

Richie jerked and would’ve pulled away, but Herc stopped him. “How long have you been in love with me?”

Richie tried to dodge. “Today isn’t a good day to –”

“And never is?” Herc arched an eyebrow. “I was wondering why you didn’t seem too upset that Nick tied himself to Paris. You were annoyed but not heartbroken like I expected.”

Richie hesitated a moment before countering with, “You've never been with a guy, let alone considered –”

“Maybe because I’ve always put you up against them,” Herc admitted, exhaling and rolling his shoulders back as he did so. Something felt so right about admitting that truth. “And don’t try to tell me I’m buzzed and don’t know what I’m saying.”

Richie sighed. “I fell in love with you while I was training you, Herc. All the years since – you’ve never wavered in your commitments. You were a jaeger pilot and a father, and yeah, you had some moments where you were more of a jaeger pilot and a senior ranger, but you never forgot your son or your friends. Even when Scott was at his worst, you knew what mattered. Do you know how rare it is to know someone with that clarity of purpose? That’s why I’ve never said anything, Herc. The timing has always sucked.”

“So it does,” Herc agreed. “But you and I are going to be discussing us when this shit with the headhunter is over.”

Richie closed his eyes briefly. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he told Herc. “Can I do something before we have that discussion?”

“Such as?”

“Kiss you. Because if you don’t respond, then discussing us as anything beyond friends is academic.”

Herc studied Richie, seeing the nervousness he usually hid beneath fast talk and charm. “Okay.”

Richie leaned in and pressed his lips against Herc’s. For a moment, Herc didn’t respond, too caught up in the swirl of emotions the contact caused – and then he felt Richie start to move away. Herc opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d shut to see Richie’s face shift into the careful mask he usually wore for strangers – and knew he couldn’t let Richie go. Not like this, not when this man had shown him how to live as an immortal, given him years of support in raising Chuck, and cemented himself as one of Herc’s anchors in a world of rampaging alien monsters and equally committed immortal headhunters. 

Herc reached for Richie, stopping his movement away. “Let’s try that one again, mate,” he suggested. “Got caught up in my head there.”

Richie looked surprised, then grateful. With a nod, he took the half step back into Herc’s personal space and tried the kiss again. This time, Herc was ready for him, and opened his mouth to welcome Richie as a potential lover. Herc wasn’t sure what he was expecting – but he knew instantly this wasn’t the gentle, sweet passion like when he’d kissed E.J., and cursed himself silently for being so blind. This was coming home to a long-banked fire, only needing a spark to reignite the flames; like what coming home to Angela had been after long weeks away on active duty. Had he really forgotten that kisses were supposed to be intense conversations, not mere preludes to a final act? Herc pressed closer, giving as good as he got and still needing more – only to be jerked back to reality by his son’s voice.

“Not that I haven’t been half-expecting this for years, but, um, Richie, your phone’s been shouting ‘Camelot!’ for the last several minutes.”

Richie swore and stepped back in time to catch the device Chuck tossed to him. “Fuck,” Richie said, reading a text message. He looked at Herc. “We'll continue this later. Matthew needs my help.”

“Then go,” Herc told him. 

Richie shot him a look that promised everything before running away.

Chuck eyed his father and waited a beat before speaking. “So he’s the reason you haven’t looked at other guys?”

“Don’t start,” Herc warned his son.

“Just saying,” Chuck said, holding up a hand.

“Uh huh, and I don’t want to hear it,” Herc countered. “Not unless you have actual objections and not ones where you’re being the asshole I know you’re capable of being.”

Chuck sighed. “Love you too, old man.”

“Don’t call me that,” Herc snapped automatically, but he could tell his son was enjoying his discomfort. “And don’t tell me you’ve been secretly hoping for this to happen, either.”

“Wouldn’t want to keep pointing out the obvious,” Chuck drawled, grinning. “If I’d known you weren’t interested in guys because Richie was it for you, I’d have locked you two in a room years ago.”

Herc blew out a breath. “Didn’t know until five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Chuck waited a moment before adding, “Raleigh taught me I really respond to command voice.”

Herc looked at his son. “Aw, hell, I’m going to be in trouble, aren’t I? Richie knows me.”

Chuck grinned. “But what a way to go? All that experience.”

“Shut up and quit being so smug.” He hesitated before asking, “Did you ever ask him?”

“He always said he was your best mate. Given what I just saw, I think he’s been waiting for you a while.”

“Yeah. Explains why Scott got mean about our friendship; he suspected there was more, even if it was one-sided back then.”

Chuck studied his father a moment. “You, ah, not using him to get over E.J., are you? Because if that’s the case –”

“– We wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Herc finished. “You know Richie wouldn’t make an offer like that. He didn’t offer when we both had taken heads and could’ve used a friendly hand or two, though…” Herc’s voice trailed off as he realized abruptly that it was likely Richie had wanted to offer, but had respected Herc’s boundaries. Shaking off the regret that thought produced, Herc refocused on his son’s question. “Richie would’ve waited longer if he hadn’t accidentally revealed himself.”

Chuck nodded in understanding. “What are you going to do now?”

“Wait for him to come back,” Herc said. “I’m hungry; did you want to join me for a late lunch?"

“Ate already but I’ll keep you company since –”

“Don’t say it –” Herc interrupted.

Undaunted, Chuck finished with, “Richie left you all alone.”

“Just for that, you and I are sparring when I’m done.”

Chuck just grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Richie totally would set Matthew's ringtone to be Monty Python's "Knights of the Round Table" and find it amusing, especially if Matthew found out.


	33. Chapter 33

“You’re worried,” Raleigh noted from his spot on what had been Herc’s bed in the former Hansen shared quarters as he watched Chuck shed the clothes he’d worn to spar with his father.

“Matthew’s been gone most of the day, and Richie’s been gone for at least four hours,” Chuck said as he tossed the sweaty clothes into the laundry hamper. “I caught my old man and Richie kissing, so now Dad’s blocking me from feeling him, which means he’s really worried, and –”

“And you hate not being able to do a damned thing,” Raleigh concluded. “Well, tell you what: why don’t we take advantage of the fact that the shower stall here is bigger than mine?”

“Planning on distracting me with sex?”

“Why, are you complaining?” Raleigh asked. His eyes gleamed with mischief. “Didn’t think you’d ever turn me down.”

“Not at all,” he told Raleigh, and crossed the room to kiss him. “Promissory note for later? Not that what you’re offering wouldn’t be a good distraction…”

“It just wouldn’t be more than a fifteen-minute one,” Raleigh agreed, shrugging easily. “I get it.”

Chuck kissed him. “I’ll be right back.”

Chuck didn’t linger in the shower. He’d never cared much for the rare times when his father shut him out of their ghost drift; it tended to leave him feeling vaguely rudderless. For his father’s sake, Chuck prayed that Richie would return and deliver on the promise he’d made with a single look. E.J. hadn't wanted to stand with Herc; Richie was prepared to die for him – and Chuck knew if that happened, his father's grief would be of epic proportions. Silently, he hoped that wouldn’t happen for a very long time; he wanted his father to be happy, as he was with Raleigh.

As if thinking Raleigh’s name was a silent beacon, Raleigh pulled the shower curtain aside. He was naked. “It’s later now,” he told Chuck, and kissed him until all thoughts of anything else vanished from Chuck’s head.

Chuck inhaled a breath as he tried to regain control, but Raleigh wasn’t having any of it. He knelt and took Chuck’s cock in his mouth as the water cascaded down both of them. As blowjobs went, it wasn’t anything spectacular – but it was the first time Raleigh had volunteered to do it, and that made Chuck find passion’s peak that much faster. Raleigh pulled his mouth off at Chuck’s warning, and then held Chuck close as he shuddered through his orgasm. The look of mischief accomplished and pride Raleigh shot him made Chuck whimper again.

“You were saying about distractions?” Raleigh dared.

That was the last thing he said for a while other than Chuck’s name as Chuck demonstrated turnabout was fair play.

* * *

The invitation to the challenge arrived just before dinnertime: what looked like Matthew’s broadsword, driven through the carcass of a bulldog that looked a lot like Max, but was too thin to be. A note had been pinned to the dog’s collar, indicating that Chuck and Herc were to be in a location just outside the city’s northern limits at dawn the following day. Jeremy offered to bury the poor animal, an offer both Hansens quickly accepted after making sure to remove both sword and note.

 _No more knights to shield the king and the prince_ , the note had sneered. _Arrive together or not at all. If you don’t show, then your knights are dead._

_\- Calen Collingridge du Tornay_

Chuck stared at the note, committing it to memory before turning to his father; they'd chosen to discuss the matter in Herc's office. “Richie hasn’t come back either. Think it’s safe to assume he’s been caught, too?”

“No reports of odd lightning storms, and both Matthew and Richie are powerful enough they’d be hard to miss if they lost their heads.” Herc’s voice was grim. “You sure you want to answer this challenge? For all we know, our friends are already dead.”

Chuck looked at his father, caught by the surge of grief and regret he felt through the Ghost Drift. “Thought you didn’t believe in defeatist thinking, old man.”

“Not defeatist, realist,” Herc argued.

“Uh huh, and I’m not the son of a man who believed Stacker would honor an impossible promise to protect his kid.”

Caught by that, Herc bit his lower lip before sighing. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.” He shook his head, clearly trying to shove his emotions aside in favor of focusing at the matter at hand. “You should go meditate, get focused. I have a bad feeling this guy Collingridge won’t be playing fair. If he thinks we’re – as Richie said before he left – the key to winning the Game, then I wouldn’t put it past him to make sure we’re his prize.”

Chuck nodded. “You, uh, need me to do anything for you?”

Herc offered him a rueful smile. “I’m more worried than I should be about Richie, and then I look at my watch and I realize it was this morning that E.J. walked out of my life. I feel like I should feel more guilty than I do that E.J. won’t be waiting and wondering what happens.”

“Even before she walked out of here, I was wondering if she was good enough,” Chuck noted quietly. “This morning, Raleigh wouldn’t tell her what happened to him. I asked him why when were alone. He said he was afraid she’d tell him he should be over it by now, because she seemed to be over what happened to her.”

Herc closed his eyes briefly and shuddered through a breath. “I think she would have. Damn it.” He straightened his shoulders and headed over to his desk. “I want bring up a local map of this area and see if we can get some intel before we show up. Because we need a better plan than to show up and fight if we’re going to win.”

Immortal presence seared across their senses and they turned as one to see Richie, looking disheveled, walk into the office. His shirt was stained with blood and dirt.

“What happened to you?” Chuck burst out.

“Collingridge hired two very stupid young immortals to kidnap me and try to keep me. He apparently didn’t do his homework; they didn’t frisk me and they were stupid enough to a) cuff me with standard police issue handcuffs and b) put me in the trunk of an American car. You know, one of the ones with the child safety release latch? I, uh, jumped out at an intersection and got grazed by a car, but I’m all right. Mostly.” He rolled his head, popping his neck with a loud crack. “Ah, that’s better.”

“How’d you get out of handcuffs?” Chuck asked.

“Same way I’ve been doing it since I was eleven,” Richie said with a shrug. “You were a jaeger pilot during your teen years. Well, I was a thief and a street rat for a couple of years longer than you piloted a jaeger. I keep a handcuff key and a blade somewhere so if the cops use zip ties, I can still get free.”

“Where’s Matthew?” Herc asked.

“He decided to dispense with our drivers,” Richie said flatly. “I helped him with one; he had to chase the other. They'd had him in a hotel room with a poisoned knife and were moving us to where Collingridge is, but they were stupid enough to shoot me before loading me in the trunk and they put us with our swords.”

“So that’s not Matthew’s broadsword we saw with the invitation,” Herc deduced.

“Probably not.” Richie looked at the table and peered at the sword. “Nope. Close but wrong hilt. His has the insignia of the lord of Salisbury branded into the base.”

“Where is he now?”

“About five minutes away.” Richie smiled wolfishly. “Let’s stack the deck in our favor, shall we?”

“Why does this idiot think we matter in the Game?” Herc asked, irritated.

“Because he thinks your blood will enable mortals to become immortal, and then he can kill a bunch of baby immies...”

“Aren’t you the one who said six immortals does not equal one old and very experienced immortal?”

“Yeah, but a hundred...”

“But that’s not how immortality works, right? You can’t give your blood and make someone immortal.” Chuck looked at Richie for confirmation.

“Right. Except he’s convinced that it can be done. Don’t ask me how. If nothing else, that many immortals would give him a small army, and given what Matthew and I have gone through today, I do not relish the notion of a small army. The only saving grace may be that they’re clueless. The idiot I dealt with didn’t even know firing a gun at me was useless. He was sure Collingridge gave him a gift with an injection. I offered him amnesty but he said Naresh would kill him.”

Immortal presence rippled through them and Richie opened the office door to see Matthew striding towards them, looking deeply annoyed. Like Richie, his clothes were bloodstained, but his trench coat had hid the worst of it from public view. Shedding the coat before he sat down, Matthew waited until Richie had shut the door before speaking.

“I’m getting too old to be dealing with the kind of lemmings Collingridge has surrounded himself with,” he muttered.

“So he has a small group of sycophants,” Herc said. “Where is he and can we take him out tonight?”

Matthew shook his head. “He threw six of his followers at Richie and me in the last twelve hours. I’m not fond of slaughtering children.”

“Neither am I. He recruited some disillusioned kaiju cultists, so they would be primed to believe he has the power to make them immortal.”

“And what would he gain by killing us?” Chuck demanded.

“The perfect demo of a double quickening.” Matthew offered them a grim smile. “It’s enough to awe the sheep he’s surrounded himself with. If he was really sadistic, he’d kill you at the same time and share your Quickenings with the really faithful, which would tie them permanently together.”

“No fucking way in hell I want that,” Herc snapped. “I’d find a way to haunt all of them to insanity if that happened.”

“ _We’d_ find a way to do that,” Chuck corrected. “Can it be done?”

“Connor swears his teacher talks to him through the Quickening,” Richie noted quietly. “I don’t want to see either of you dead.”

“Nor I,” Matthew added. “But Collingridge’s trying to win the Game the fastest way possible. He was at the hotel when they caught me and was stupid enough to assume if I was killed, I couldn’t revive quickly. I pretended to be dead long enough to see he has some scientist named Dr. Trey Montlake, supposedly an expert in gene therapy. When Collingridge realized I was awake, that’s when they stabbed me with a poison knife.” Matthew rubbed his chest absently.

“Sounds like someone Newt or Dr. Gottlieb would recognize,” Chuck said, and called down to the K-science lab.

Newt answered the video call. “What can I do for you?”

“Heard of anyone named Dr. Trey Montlake? Expert in gene therapy?”

“A disgrace,” Newt said immediately. “He advocates that human experimentation is a crucial component to the advancement of medicine, except he’d prefer it if the humans used weren’t volunteers but a ‘careful selection from society’s undesirables,’” Newt said, his expression clearly contemptuous. “I mean, hello, they’re still people, not kaiju. He got fired from his last position for failing to abide by human and animal testing protocols. Also, he’s got this cracked notion that if you splice DNA with the right blood cells, you’ll be able to live forever. As if anyone can, right? He asked me if I could loan him some kaiju blood to test if they lived forever.”

“And did you give it to him?” Herc asked warningly.

“Hell no,” Newt said. “I remember him making fun of my tattoos when my arms were barely covered. He doesn’t get anything from me, ever. Oh, and he’s found this benefactor, some fancy French name.”

“Collingridge du Toray?” Matthew asked.

“Yeah, that’s it. Claims he’s from a lost duchy of France. Everyone’s talking about him – he’s got money from somewhere, except Hannibal Chau said that no one knows from where, and that’s just raising all sorts of eyebrows because it can’t be legal and the Chinese authorities can’t touch him because he’s claiming diplomatic immunity.”

“What are the chances he’s stolen kaiju parts?” Chuck wondered.

“Pretty high,” Newt said. “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him, since we said no. He’s the kind of asshole who’d just take what he wanted. It’s been rumored that parts of Mutavore were sold at an invitation-only auction. Chau says that the parts in question are often sold to people who think they’re the key to living forever, like gods.”

“Thanks for the info,” Chuck said and quickly concluded the call.

“Great, so he has delusions of godhood,” Herc muttered. “How do we take him out?”

“Accept his invitation,” Matthew said. “He called Richie and me your knights; let us show him how a real one acts, not the Hollywood version.”

Chuck smiled for the first time since he’d walked into his father’s office. “What do you want me to do?”


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: blood and death and Highlander-canon-typical violence in this chapter.  
> Thanks to Sam J. for the super fast beta on this chapter.

After some debate, Herc had opted to send a PPDC security team to check out Calen’s residence on the premise that he might have stolen kaiju parts. Matthew and Richie accompanied the Hansens as their seconds; Chuck was grateful now for their foresight. Calen had ‘rewarded’ his inner circle, which numbered seven, by triggering their immortality. He’d intended to wear Herc and Chuck out by sending said cadre to fight them. Taking advantage of the challenge area’s undeveloped status, he’d even taken his idea of a medieval court and set up his cadre in chairs brought in for the occasion, which made Matthew sneer at the historical inaccuracy. A temporary barrier comprised of Retracta-Belt stanchions delineated the battle zone, which was fronted by the mock court, and was about the size of an indoor soccer field. The four immortals recognized Naresh but the other six were unknowns.

“We wished for chairs that nice,” Matthew said in an undertone to Richie.

“All the more reason to make sure they don’t ever learn what’s in your head,” Richie said grimly. “We don’t want them to feel gypped by reality, now.”

Not looking happy that his plan to overwhelm the Hansens had failed first contact, Calen sent out his first four challengers. Like the other unknowns, they were perfect fits for a Hollywood casting call for ‘random muscled enforcers for the evil guy,’ complete with a token female. 

“You two stay put; we’ll take these,” Richie told Herc and Chuck firmly before turning to Matthew. “Who do you want first?”

“You take the two on the left, I’ll take the two on the right.”

“Two on one?” Chuck asked. “Are you sure?”

“This is why we train you for it,” Richie said flatly.

Chuck looked nervously at his father, who sent reassurance through their ghost drift before pulling up his shields. Herc then turned to Richie, who smiled understandingly.

“Let’s not give him any more ammo than he already has,” Richie told Herc, stepping closer. “But know this. I’ve always loved you and believed in you.”

“I could care less about what that asshole thinks of me,” Herc says fiercely, pulling Richie into an embrace and kissing him. “Just come back, damn it.”

Richie half-grinned at that, and stepped away from Herc. “Let’s just get this over with quickly,” he told Matthew as they stepped up to the field. As though they’d always fought together, they dispatched the four enforcers as if they were no real threat. Herc and Chuck noted that all four appeared to have had some sword training, but whatever skill they had was no match for Matthew’s and Richie’s combined experience. By silent agreement, Richie and Matthew took turns as they dealt with the Quickenings in rapid succession, until only one of the four enforcers was left.

Perhaps motivated by the deaths of her coworkers, the last enforcer tried to give Richie a fight. It was more involved than the other battles had been as well.

“You can keep your head if you surrender and swear never to hunt any of us,” Richie offered her.

“My name is Mia, and my loyalty is to Collingridge du Toray,” she shot back.

Richie took a deep breath and nodded acceptance of her words. “More fool you, then.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she took the bait, rushing to attack Richie. He slapped away her sword, and caught up in her own feet, she realized her mistake a heartbeat too late as he used his left hand to stab her with his hideout dagger. She drew breath to protest, but his right hand was coming around to take her head and she never had a chance to exhale.

“Wait,” Calen said when Matthew and Richie would’ve stepped closer to try and get to him. “You – who are you two?”

“I’m Richie Ryan,” Richie replied. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me? If not, I was trained by the Highlanders – _both_ of them.”

Calen blanched. “Both?” he asked, looking concerned for the first time all morning.

“And I’m Matthew McCormick, also known as Matthew of Salisbury,” Matthew replied, sounding as English as Chuck knew he could sound when deeply irritated. “You want a head worth the Game? Should’ve gone for mine. Perhaps you should’ve planned better, _child._ ”

Furious, Calen demanded, “Then let me see how you do against three if Herc is involved. Naresh, your turn.”

“Herc, want to prove a point?” Richie tossed over his shoulder. “This idiot isn’t thinking.”

“Gladly,” Herc said, and joined him and Matthew. 

Shaking his head at Calen’s inability to see how vulnerable that made him, Chuck followed the line of stanchions around to where Calen sat, now unguarded. Chuck had never wanted this moment in his life, but it was here. No way he was going to let this guy sit here and watch his father, Richie, and Matthew fight as if it was a sporting event.

“Nowhere to run, you fucking drongo,” Chuck drawled. “You want my head? Fight me for it. Or you just a whacka, full of hot air?”

“You and Herc,” Calen said in an aggravated tone, “took out the only two people who ever really gave a damn about me. Immortality’s not inherited, but here you two are, both immortals. That’s not how it works. You must know something everyone else doesn’t.”

“Nope,” Chuck said cheerfully. “We’re just a father and son from Down Under. We grow ‘em different there, you know. Also? I had nothing to do with that fight in Sydney. That was my old man and Richie. Is that the only reason you want my head? Because you’re going to have to try harder to piss me off.”

Calen seethed. “How about this? The great Chuck Hansen is an asshole. You – you don’t deserve to live. What you’d do at the Breach, huh? Let a great pilot die. That’s what you did.”

Chuck stared at him and started laughing. “Yeah, you keep on believing that, why don’t you. Because if you knew Stacker Pentecost, you’d know ‘letting him die in a jaeger’ is exactly what he wanted.”

Calen charged Chuck. Chuck was prepared for it, and stepped aside as he would a raging bull, suspecting it would infuriate the black-haired man further. It did, and Chuck dodged a second attack.

“Fight me, damn you,” Calen demanded. “Or are you a sniveling coward?”

Chuck laughed and considered him, feeling the weeks of training snap into concentrated focus. “Nah,” Chuck drawled. “I’m a jaeger pilot who stared a Category V kaiju in the face. Can you say that? No? Then come die on my blade, you useless idiot.”

Calen charged again, and Chuck parried the attack, then pressed his advantage, his motivation clear. Calen wanted to use him, but his plans were half-assed at best; better to make sure that they stayed unfulfilled. Chuck had no desire to see his father or himself used as lab rats, and Calen’s callousness towards his cadre made Chuck furious. Any immortal who sent that many people to die in his stead, then sat around watching them die as if they were characters in a fascinating movie, was not someone Chuck wanted to see continue to enjoy the benefits of living forever. 

Calen was marginally more skilled than the enforcers who’d fallen to Matthew and Richie. Abruptly Chuck could see himself in the way Calen fought, as if he’d taken himself back in time a year. Calen wasn’t anticipating Chuck’s next move, wasn’t seeing opportunities; he was just swinging a sword with the patterns of defense and attack memorized, and there was no heart in it, no real purpose. Chuck could fight him all day and know exactly what the counter to every attack was, because the way Calen fought was a clockwork exercise drummed into Chuck’s head thanks to both the Drift and his training. For a moment, Chuck hesitated, debating mentally whether Calen deserved mercy for being a clueless idiot as he went through yet another Sword Fighting 101 sequence with Calen, but like his father before him when faced with the same situation, Chuck knew he had to do this if he wanted to live without the shadow of this threat. 

Deciding he’d had enough of this by-the-numbers fight, Chuck deliberately faked being off-balance to see if Calen would take the bait in his trap – and Calen fell for it completely. Calen fell to his knees, an exclamation of surprise escaping his lips.

“Wait!” Calen said. “What if I said I was sorry?”

“So you are,” Chuck agreed.

“I only wanted to see if Dr. Montlake’s theory was true!” Calen pleaded. “I wasn’t going to kill you right away. Just maybe taken some samples.”

“Uh huh,” Chuck said doubtfully. Not interested in listening to Calen’s babble, Chuck took Calen’s head and braced himself for the onslaught. Calen’s Quickening was bitter with defeat, but Chuck was too centered in his sense of his self for it to be a credible threat. Mentally, Chuck checked off the box in his head for ‘what to do after winning’, grinning as he deliberately used the mental image of one of Raleigh’s checklists to keep himself grounded. He spent a moment mourning the loss of life, but Calen’s Quickening had shown Chuck that the other immortal had been determined to see him and Herc dead, with their deaths a springboard for his quest to win the Game. Calen had no real proof, only theories advocated by Dr. Montlake, who’d apparently been hoping to use the Hansens as his evidence.

Worried now about his father, Chuck turned to see the outcome of his fight against the newly immortal Naresh. Naresh held a sword like a boxer, clearly uncomfortable but doing his damnedest to hold his own in the fight. Chuck’s eyes widened as he realized his father was using jaeger bushido to counter Naresh’s flailing, wielding his broadsword as if it was a bō. Naresh swore, clearly frustrated, and tried pulling out a gun to cheat – but Herc had anticipated this possibility.

Naresh fired the shot, and waited. Herc looked at him as if he was an idiot.

“You’re not dying,” Naresh stammered.

“Kevlar-lined vest,” Herc told him. “Figured one of you would try to shoot me.”

Naresh closed his eyes briefly. “Then you’ve won,” he conceded, and knelt at Herc’s feet. “Understand, it was never personal, Marshal Hansen. I just thought you weren’t needed anymore, and he promised me a fortune if I followed him.”

“That just makes it worse,” Herc told him, and swung his sword, taking Naresh’s head.

Forewarned, Chuck deliberately shielded himself against feeling his father in their Ghost Drift, not wanting the bleed-over on top of his own emotions regarding the fights. Herc screamed out his name, forcing Naresh’s Quickening to concede to him, as lightning crackled around him.

For a moment, the field of battle was silent. “That the last of them?” Matthew called, walking up with Richie right beside him.

“That’s the last of them,” Herc agreed, sounding weary. “You okay, Chuck?”

“Yeah, just shielded right now,” Chuck replied. “He’d memorized how to fight, and he was pissed off and delusional. You?”

“Naresh was his pet assassin,” Herc said. “I hate assassins. Richie, Matthew, how are you two?

“Glad this is over,” Matthew said. “I hate dealing with fools who think they know better than me.”

“I hate killing women,” Richie said. “Now that we’ve all vented about how this all sucks ass, we need to clean this up, guys, and get out of here.”


	35. Chapter 35

Before leaving the battlefield a few hours later, having cleaned up the site and disposed of the bodies, Herc made a point to check on his son. He knew he was feeling the effects of having taken a Quickening, and a part of him very much wanted to get the hell out of there and find the nearest private spot for him and Richie, but he knew this was a moment he couldn’t fuck up just for a fuck.

“I saw the end of your fight,” he told his son quietly. “He didn’t stand a chance.”

Chuck lifted his head in a way that said volumes to Herc about how he was feeling, almost as if he’d expected criticism of his technique. “Yeah, well, he’d memorized how to fight. Like it were steps in a dance.”

Herc laughed. “I was wondering about that. You did well, son.”

“Yeah, but was it a tango or the chicken dance?” Richie joked. 

“Chicken, definitely,” Chuck replied, grinning as Matthew brought the unmarked SUV they’d arrived in around to where they were standing. 

More seriously, Herc asked, “You okay? It’s okay if you start second-guessing everything.”

Chuck looked at him and shook his head. “I’m okay. He wanted us dead, the kind of guy who’d cut the tails of house lizards just to see if they’d squirm.”

Herc glanced at Richie, who looked as worried as he did. “I –”

“Leave it,” Chuck snapped. “I’m not going to mourn that idiot.” He got into the SUV.

Richie chose the shotgun seat, so Herc got into the passenger seat next to his son. He wisely said nothing when Chuck immediately reached for his hand and spent the trip back shuddering through silent tears. Herc could feel his son’s regret mixed with pride.

“I’m not sad he’s dead,” Chuck said defensively as they pulled into the Shatterdome’s motor pool. 

“No, but you killed a man,” Herc noted quietly. “I cried over that too when it was me and my first time. Couldn’t do it in front of my mates, but your mom made me let it out when I got home. Said it would fester if I didn’t. She was right.”

Chuck wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and swallowed hard. “So I’m not weak or stupid for reacting like this?”

“We’d be more worried if you weren’t reacting at all,” Matthew assured him.

That seemed to reassure Chuck. “I think I just want to take some time to myself. Dad, you’re going to be with Richie, yeah?”

“If you need to talk, we can wait,” Richie said.

Chuck shook his head. “No, I know how it works for you two; don’t want to interfere with that. Matthew, will you be staying in the guest quarters?”

“Was going to ask if I could so I could get cleaned up before heading home. Not a problem for me to hang around if you wanted to talk.”

“Thanks. I, uh, I’ll find you in a little while.”

Only slightly reassured, Herc looked inquiringly at his son. “Feels like when we took down a kaiju the first time,” Chuck told him. “All shaky and happy at the same time. Wasn’t expecting to feel sad over fucking kaiju. You know how long it took me to calm down from that.”

Herc nodded in understanding. “Couple of hours, yeah. If you want to –”

“Quit fussing,” Chuck said evenly, in a tone that told Herc not push any further.

“Don’t forget, you can talk to Victoria too,” Herc reminded him, referring to the ‘dome’s chief psychiatrist. He knew Chuck sometimes preferred talking to someone he didn’t consider to be family, and knew, too, that Chuck thought Herc judged him unfairly at times, even though he was guilty of doing the same thing to Herc. He didn’t take it personally that Chuck was thinking of going to Matthew over him or Richie, especially not after seeing how well Matthew had been able to adjust Chuck’s perspective on immortality and the Game.

Chuck nodded tightly and opened the door of the SUV, ending the conversation. Herc sighed and hoped his son wouldn’t let his pride get in the way of talking with someone.

“I’ll make sure he talks to me,” Matthew assured Herc before stepping out of the vehicle. 

“Thanks, Matthew,” Herc said as he exited the SUV and shut the door, while Richie did the same.

* * *

“Marshal, may I have a word with you?” Jeremy asked, stopping Herc as he and the others walked into the Shatterdome.

“I’ll meet you in your quarters,” Richie promised Herc. “Matthew, you need Herc for anything?”

“No, I’ll see you at dinner,” Matthew promised, and headed briskly in the direction of the guest quarters.

“Chuck?” Herc asked, realizing what Richie was doing.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, soon as I shower and find Raleigh. Talk to you later,” Chuck said firmly. “I swear, I’ll go talk to Matthew before dinner. Come on, Richie, I’ll let you into the old man’s room.”

* * *

After letting Richie into Herc’s quarters, Chuck deliberately used his room to shower and change, even though most of his clothes had migrated to Raleigh’s closet. He took a moment to make sure his sword and boot knife were clean and oiled, though Matthew had been insistent he do that before they left the scene to prevent rust. His bloodstained clothes went into the hamper, and Chuck made a mental note to do laundry as soon as possible. Finally, Chuck stepped into the shower to get clean, remembering his promise to Raleigh not to trigger him. 

Thoughts of the morning’s battles ran through Chuck’s head in a loop, and he knew he’d be thinking of them for a while. He’d developed the habit of analyzing every battle with a kaiju, looking for how he and his father could fight them better, and realized he now faced a dilemma: analyze or just be glad Calen and his enforcers weren’t better? He didn’t regret taking Calen’s head, but he wondered if he should feel more remorse than he did. He’d taken a life, after all, but…this felt like what his father had been trying to explain all those years ago, particularly after a battle in Hawaii.

It wasn’t that he regretted winning: he regretted that winning was the only way to make sure that power-mad, delusional, and callous immortals like Calen Collingridge du Toray weren’t a threat. Chuck swallowed hard, aware that he’d crossed a line he could never go back and pretend away. For a moment, he wondered if he should go bother Matthew, ask a few questions – but he suspected if he did, Matthew would just favor him with one of those ‘you’re smarter than that’ looks and Chuck would feel about as much as an idiot as he’d been the day Matthew had repeatedly killed him. Chuck already had the answers, thanks to two years of training with his father and Richie plus the six weeks with Matthew – and the years of Drifting with Herc had answers, if Chuck was willing to sort through the memories. More to the point, Chuck had done the right thing, and that was what mattered? But Matthew had said he was willing to talk, so maybe Chuck was just jumping to conclusions.

His mind moved on to logistics: if he talked to Matthew now, would it be better than if he waited until after he’d spent some time with Raleigh? If he waited, he’d have a better judge of what his reactions were. Not, Chuck thought, that he was having trouble per se, just…he felt different, damn it, like he’d felt different when he’d killed kaiju, except it was bigger, more personal. Plus, he was now certain his fluency in Cantonese had just improved, and wow, there was that aspect of Quickenings his father had mentioned, damn it, he just hadn’t quite believed it worked like clicking on a link and there was the information ready for download. No wonder Calen wanted the Prize – here was all this knowledge and all you had to do was be willing to kill. 

_Aw, fuck, I hated the old man for doing this. I didn’t get it then. Fuck, I’m going to have to apologize. This shit…Calen wanted to experiment on us, then kill us slowly. Should I have let the old man take his head? Should I have offered to take out Naresh instead? Either way, I wasn’t going to just stand there with my thumb up my ass and let Dad, Richie, and Matthew fight everyone. That didn’t seem fair. So why am I feeling like I should feel guiltier for what I’ve done? I’m not sorry. I’m sad, like I said in the car, that I had to take a life. But I’m not fucking sorry. I just…holy shit,_ and Chuck took a deep breath before letting it out, _feel like I took on a kaiju with my bare hands. I can’t stop shaking. This is not good. Get it together, Hansen._

Distracted, Chuck was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door to his quarters opening as he normally did, nor did he notice the slide of the bathroom door.

“You know, playing what-if is a great way to drive yourself crazy,” Raleigh noted. “Also, if I had to guess from the way your hands are shaking, the RABITs you’re currently chasing aren’t pretty ones, so why don’t you think of something else?”

Startled, Chuck flinched and swore. “Holy shit, Raleigh, where the fuck did you come from?”

“Been standing here waiting for you. You were so into your head you didn’t notice, so I figured I’d say something.”

Chuck breathed out carefully, trying to calm his racing heart. “I was going to go see you when I was clean.”

A small, amused smile played upon Raleigh’s lips. “A little birdie warned me you might be a lot horny.”

“Um, I don’t want to be?” Chuck felt stupid-drunk, still fighting the post-battle adrenaline, his own swirling thoughts, and the startled-by-his-boyfriend rush. “I mean, yeah, being horny is a side effect, but it goes away and why am I stammering, I don’t –” He decided to shut his mouth before he really started babbling.

Raleigh’s smile widened as he leaned against the bathroom wall. “Do I need to get to explicit? I’m here, you’re horny, and I really, really need to feel you. Haven’t seen you for hours and the last time you talked to me, you told me you were going to fight. Didn’t you ever dream of coming home to a guy like me, when you were fresh from the fight and wanting to get laid?”

Chuck flushed and decided he wasn’t going to be the idiot who turned down an offer like that. There’d be time enough to parse his second-guessing and analyze the battle later; right now, he had to focus on one of the reasons he’d wanted to win today. In a while, he'd find Matthew and get the reassurance he sought, but for now, he had Raleigh, willing and eager for love. As distractions from the noise in his head went, Chuck thought Raleigh was an awesome one.

* * *

Jeremy waited until Richie, Chuck, and Matthew were out of earshot before speaking.

“Make it quick,” Herc ordered. “I need to get cleaned up.”

“Dr. Montlake has been arrested,” Jeremy informed Herc. “As per protocol, the PPDC kaiju investigation team had an Interpol officer accompanying them on the raid on the Victoria Peak estate; they didn’t find any kaiju parts, but they did find evidence of human trafficking. Also, France told China that the du Toray duchy doesn’t exist, Collingridge du Toray has no diplomatic immunity, and therefore anything he had has been seized.”

“Lovely,” Herc said, wishing he could dispense with this business so he could go to Richie. “So he won’t be getting out of jail anytime soon?”

“No,” Jeremy said. He hesitated before asking, “Battle this morning? All four of you?”

“Yes.”

“Then the rest of it can wait until you’re settled.”

“Thank you for the update and the understanding. Excuse me.” Brusquely, Herc headed away from his chief of security, grateful that Jeremy knew about immortals and would make allowances as a result.

Herc walked, telling himself he wasn’t running, to his quarters. If his stride was a bit longer and his steps a bit brisker, that wasn’t anyone’s business but his own. He opened the door to his quarters to find Richie waiting for him, as promised. Herc was abruptly grateful he hadn’t yet changed the code from what Chuck had set up originally.

Some tension eased out of him seeing the chronologically older man seated at the small table. Richie hadn’t changed out of his bloodstained clothing, but he’d shed the motorcycle jacket and boots he’d worn and was in the process of pulling off his socks and jeans. At Herc’s entrance, Richie said, “Don’t kiss me just yet. I don’t want to get blood on your sheets.”

“Shower’s big enough for two,” Herc told him as he undressed.

“Was hoping you’d say that,” Richie said, and quickly shed the rest of his clothes. The bloodstained clothing would be dealt with, Herc knew, but for now, Quickening-fueled arousal was making them both anxious for relief.

Herc followed Richie into the shower, admiring the other man’s rangy form and sculpted ass. In silence, Herc waited until they’d taken turns washing off the worst of the blood and dirt before speaking. “Richie, please?”

Richie shuddered through a breath before shutting off the water. “Dry off quickly. I want to take you on that bed, make you forget everything, so if there’s anything you’d object to, better speak up fast.”

“BSDM,” Herc said as he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. “And yes, I like having my ass played with.”

That brought a flash of jealousy into Richie’s eyes. “Who?”

“Angela read this article about how to keep your guy, and…” Herc shrugged, unashamed. “We, uh, played a lot with toys, enough for me to figure I really liked it. She, uh, wasn’t into pegging, but she, uh, really liked the way I reacted to having a dildo inside me. Always thought I should probably find out if there was something I was missing.”

Richie’s eyes widened, and Herc barely had time to hang his towel before Richie kissed him, pressing him against the bathroom wall. Herc shuddered, desire surging into a wall of flame as high as the one he was pressed against. Moaning as he kissed Richie, matching his intensity, Herc couldn’t think; all he could do was feel.

“Eleven years and you couldn’t mention this sooner?” Richie demanded breathlessly. 

It took a minute for Richie’s words to register, and Herc smothered a laugh as he realized he hadn’t been the only one making assumptions about boundaries. “You never asked,” he pointed out tartly, loving how Richie fit in his arms. “But I’ve never had the real thing. Never could find anyone good enough in my head.”

“Good,” Richie decided. “Because I’d hate to be jealous of someone I’ve never met; you’re here with me now. Lube in the drawer?”

“Right side,” Herc said, taking the cue to move from the bathroom. “Where else?”

Richie laughed. “Where else, the man asks me. As if there’s no left side.”

“Not for a lead jaeger pilot,” Herc drawled, enjoying this odd conversation. He pushed the bed covers back and sat down on the bed as Richie took out the lube and set it within reach before joining Herc.

Long, heated kisses later, Herc slotted his body under Richie’s, wanting full body contact. It didn’t take them long to rub off on each other, the Quickening-induced arousal sated by this first but intense orgasm. “Now that’s done,” Richie asked carefully, “are you good for more? If I get started like this, I can go a while, but I can take care of myself if that’s a problem.”

Herc looked at his longtime friend turned lover, hearing a note of worry in his voice, and knew that sometimes Quickening-fueled arousals, once sated, didn’t always translate to wanting more. It made sense to Herc that Richie would need more, between the battles he’d fought and his body’s nineteen-forever-hormone level. “Yes, I still want you. How do you want me to help?” Herc added a kiss for good measure.

Richie breathed out slowly, closing his eyes briefly. “Feel like this is a dream I’m having,” he murmured.

“Then let’s make it a good one,” Herc suggested, kissing him. Already, Herc was addicted to the way Richie leaned into every touch, meeting him. “Want me to jerk you off?”

“Yes, let’s start there,” he said, and Herc reached for the lube, wanting to give his new lover a better experience. 

Holding him close, Herc watched Richie shiver and moan through a second orgasm, enjoying the way Richie had verbalized how he preferred to be stroked. “You good, mate, or you need more still?” Herc asked, kissing him.

“Give me a bit,” Richie said, kissing back. “But let me grab us a wet towel and get less sticky, unless you want to rinse off?”

“Rinsing off is better,” Herc observed. “I don’t exactly have a good place to set a wet towel. Last time I dropped one on the floor, I forgot it was there.”

“Let me guess: slip, boom, ouch.” When Herc nodded, Richie winced. “But let me go first. If you join me, I’m going to get distracted.”

Herc chuckled and waited patiently for his turn. He knew a part of him was freaking out that he wasn’t freaking out at this change in his sexuality, in his choice of partners, but the majority of him felt almost as if this was…just the evolution of what they’d always been to each other, now that they had the time to explore it properly. Herc had never had much patience for anyone who tried to put a label on his sexuality. Having two copilots who weren’t straight had also opened Herc’s eyes to how sex between men could be; Scott had tried to shock him with that knowledge, and then Chuck had been halfway defiant with it. Just because he’d been married to a woman for more than a decade hadn’t meant that they’d been vanilla – and thinking of just how vanilla Angela hadn’t been made Herc realize there was something he wanted to do. 

Once they’d rinsed off and were back in the bed, Herc drew Richie into a cuddle with plenty of kissing. “Something I’d like to do, if you’re willing,” Herc managed in between kisses.

“What’s that?” Richie asked.

“Want you to take me,” Herc replied.

“You sure? Toys aren’t the same thing,” Richie said carefully.

Some instinct told Herc that he might only get one night with this man, and Herc wanted very much to not regret the things he hadn’t done. “I’m sure,” Herc said firmly. “Besides, I seem to recall you telling Chuck you didn’t bottom?”

Richie half-smiled. “Yeah, I did.” He was quiet a moment before he looked at Herc. “Mind you, this is not the context I ever expected that conversation to come back to haunt me.”

Herc laughed. “So give me a better reason to remember it, then,” he suggested provocatively.

Richie stared at him a moment, then laughed. “I can’t believe you just said that,” he said, and leaned in to kiss Herc.

“So is that, no, I’m not getting fucked tonight?”

“Yes,” Richie agreed, then shook his head. “No to getting fucked, yes to making love. Aw, hell, semantics; I think in French sometimes.”

Grinning, Herc said, “It’s okay. Only reason I can speak American is because of you.”

“You say all the flattering things, sir,” Richie simpered, and when Herc laughed, kissed him until Herc forgot what they’d been discussing.

Despite the fire sizzling between them, or maybe because of it, Herc sensed Richie took extra care to prepare him, to show him the journey to completion was just as enjoyable as the final result. Herc had thought he’d known what to expect, given his late wife’s use of toys. The real thing, especially being Richie, was one hundred percent hotter and deeply satisfying. Herc loved watching the way Richie let go of the fine control he kept himself under, let Herc see past the masks he normally wore, and just lived in this moment of fiery passion.

In the aftermath, Herc pulled his new lover close, uncaring of the sweat and other liquids between them. “Thank you,” Herc said, kissing him. “I’ve always wondered.”

Richie grinned crookedly. “Glad to be of service,” he half-joked.

Herc’s eyes narrowed. “Service? Is that what we’re calling it? Because I was thinking love, not service.”

Richie looked surprised. “That distinction matters to you?” he asked carefully.

“Service implies I ordered you to do it,” Herc pointed out. “Or that you did it out of obligation, not want.”

That brought Richie’s head up. “Sometimes I forget you and Chuck were both hurt by Scott in more ways than one,” he murmured. “Boundaries and permissions are big with both of you.”

Herc let out a breath. “Yes.”

“Then let me state this once. You have my permission to love me wherever, however, and whenever, as long as nobody videotapes us or photographs it, and it’s just us. I don’t plan on sharing you with anyone and I don’t want to. I don’t want to be tied up, either; I’ve had that happen once too often for it to ever be erotic. Anything you think is weird or too kinky, we’ll discuss when we’re not naked and turned on but we won’t go through with it then. That clear enough?”

Herc kissed him. “Yes,” he said again. “And no blood or weapons in the bed, please.”

“Weapons in the bed frame or headboard okay?”

“Yeah, just don’t want to be messing with them. Don’t really want to find out if we can heal if certain body parts get cut off.”

“The answer is yes and painfully,” Richie told him. “And no, I don’t have personal experience, and it’s one of the things the healer showed me.”

Herc winced. “We should probably get up and get cleaned,” he said tactfully. “Before we completely stick to each other.”

Richie kissed him. “Okay if I stay with you tonight?”

“What’s tomorrow? Monday?” Herc groaned as he realized he hadn’t planned on taking the day off. “Fuck it. I’m the marshal. I’m taking the day off.”

“And is the marshal going to forgive his chief of jaeger crew operations if he plays hooky too?” Richie teased as they headed for the shower again.

“Oh yeah,” Herc said fervently. “And I’d have granted it regardless of what we are now to each other. Six heads in less than twenty-four hours? I’m surprised you aren’t shaking apart.”

“Been a while, but it’s not my worst record,” Richie admitted, turning on the water. “I spent a year convinced the only way I could defeat Duncan MacLeod was if I matched his lifetime record.”

“And did you?” Herc’s voice held no censure; he’d heard the story enough to know Richie’s reasons and to know he’d probably react in much the same way given the same circumstances.

“No way I could have, not when he’d been alive for over four centuries at that point and had fought in multiple battles and wars, but I did enough damage that there’s still a few who want my head because of what I did back then.” Richie grabbed a washcloth and handed it to Herc, who had the soap.

“Seems like after a couple of decades, you should reevaluate whether that grudge is worth it.” Herc enjoyed this part of a sexual relationship: being able to share a shower with his lover, and knew he’d never asked E.J. if she was comfortable doing it. Some instinct had made him hesitate, and now he was grateful for it. He lathered up the washcloth and began scrubbing Richie’s back.

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Richie purred at the touch and adjusted the spray so the water wasn’t hitting them at a bad angle. “Planning on spoiling me, Herc?”

“Every chance I get,” Herc assured him. “I may not have the savings you do, but this kind of stuff…this is what I’ve always been able to afford.”

“Mmm, so that’s how you stayed married for so long despite all your active duty.”

“That, and we were stubborn people who didn’t like all the doomsayers.” Herc knelt to soap up Richie’s lower half, then rose. “Front please.”

“Nothing like everyone saying you can’t as motivation,” Richie noted as he turned. “So does this attention mean I get to return the favor?”

“Yup,” Herc agreed readily, and got a kiss in gratitude. 


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Many thanks to everyone who's read this, especially to all those who've kudoed or commented so far!

Sated from their lovemaking, Chuck might’ve stayed happily in Raleigh’s embrace on the narrow bed if it weren’t for the sense of immortal presence that preceded the knock on the door. He sighed and kissed Raleigh. “Some things I need to deal with,” he told Raleigh. 

“Ah. Talking over what happened with someone who was there and not your dad or Richie?”

“Yeah,” Chuck said, not surprised at Raleigh’s assessment.

“I’ll see you at dinner then.” Raleigh kissed him and dressed quickly before opening the door for Matthew and exiting the room.

“I didn’t mean to chase him off,” Matthew began, looking puzzled as he stepped into the room and shut the door.

“We have an agreement: until there’s an immortal trying to kill him, he doesn’t want to know the details,” Chuck said. “Basically, if and when it’s his problem, then he wants to know what he has to do about it. Anything else, like what happened today, all he wants to know is a) am I fighting and b) who is going as my backup. He has PTSD from piloting a jaeger solo twice.”

Startled, Matthew took a moment to digest the information. “Then I applaud his ability to handle what he does know about us,” Matthew said firmly. “Not everyone – as we saw with Ms. Seiler – can handle that much.”

“I know,” Chuck said quietly. “Have a seat on the other bed, Matthew, if you’re going to be here a while.”

“How are you?” Matthew asked as he sat down and leaned forward.

“Raleigh distracted me, got me out of the loop my brain was on,” Chuck said frankly. “I keep thinking I should feel guiltier.”

“For what? Collingridge wanted you dead – if not immediately, soon enough. Don’t go borrowing guilt, Chuck.”

“Okay, so that’s a no. It’s not always so black and white, is it?”

“No,” Matthew said honestly. “Sometimes it’s an old friend, an old lover, even an old teacher. Those…those are the ones that you can spin around until you’re crazy. The only sane thing to do is to break it down: did they want me dead? Why did they want me dead? Was it anything I could have changed – and if so, would I have wanted to? Just because this time was as clear-cut as killing the kaiju were doesn’t decrease the personal significance. You took your first head today. So I’ll ask you again: how are you?”

Chuck let out a slow breath. “Not as shaky as I was before. I…I took my old man’s advice and let Raleigh help me out.” He looked over at Matthew, not seeing any judgment for doing so. “You, uh, gave him a hint I might be horny?”

Matthew shook his head. “Sounds like something Richie might do, given that he’s known you longer, and wouldn’t want your boyfriend to be shocked by your libido.” Matthew studied Chuck a moment. “Did it help?”

“Some,” Chuck admitted. “Didn’t want to feel like I was using him, even if he was willing. You, uh, you don’t seem to have had the same reaction to taking heads.”

Matthew smiled. “Not everyone does. Some need alcohol to anesthetize it; others seek solace in practicing katas. My teacher believed in the healing power of a good hot bath. I come from a time when such a thing was the height of luxury; it grounds me.”

Chuck considered his words a moment. “So you what you need to center yourself is different. That’s why you were so insistent I find my own words and reasons.” 

Matthew nodded. “The day may come when you’re all that remains of the family you have here, Chuck. I know you don’t want to think about that, but those words and reasons will sustain you. You did a brave thing by choosing to confront Calen while we fought his enforcers.”

“Couldn’t just let him enjoy the show. I didn’t like the way he was delighting in seeing you fight,” Chuck said immediately. “Plus I thought maybe he might run if you all won.”

“But?”

Chuck was quiet a moment. “Will I always react this way? It’s like when the old man and I fought the kaiju, except I’m hornier and I feel like I just Drifted with a stranger.”

“Did killing the kaiju get easier?”

Chuck barked a laugh. “No, but we knew their likely patterns. In that way, it got easier. But dealing with the post-fight adrenaline, the body soreness, the mental soreness, separating myself from my old man…that always took time.”

“So keep in mind how you reacted to those kinds of fights,” Matthew said gently. “Apply it to how you deal with this and your next Quickening, your next fight. Sometimes you’ll react the same; sometimes you won’t. It depends on who it was that you fought.”

“I just…wasn’t expecting it to be the way I saw it in the Drift,” Chuck confessed. “I didn’t understand it’s both like a Drift gone bad and a new partner in the Drift at the same time. I just saw the bad part, maybe because it was the most intense part and you always see the intense stuff more vividly in a Drift than the ordinary memories. And I always did a lot of post-fight analysis; I wanted to make us better for next time.”

“Ah,” Matthew said. “So I’m going to be here until the end of the year; we can work on some of the timing issues I noticed, and then you’re going to have to work with Richie and your father, as I’m headed back to the States. But I’ll warn you, as I’m sure your father has, that there are only so many times you should allow yourself to replay what happened.”

“I know,” Chuck said. “He said the limit was three: once to process it, two to discuss it, and three to put it to bed. He said you were likely to see it a few more times in nightmares anyway, so this way you could say to yourself that you’d been over it enough.”

Matthew smiled. “Your father is a smart man, as are you. You are your father’s son, Chuck. I’ve no doubt you’ll get through this, but it’s not unusual for men like you to be fine the first few days and then secondary shock sets in.”

“Have you ever…” Chuck stopped and tried to find his words. “Taken the head of an idiot like Collingridge and then wondered if it made you stupider, only to discover they knew something better than you did?”

Matthew laughed. “Yeah, I have. I take it he was good at something?”

“Cantonese,” Chuck said. “He just thought he should be able to speak French, too, and be a proper aristocrat.”

“I’ve been one,” Matthew admitted. “It’s like being the CEO of a small company. Not my favorite thing, especially with the politics.”

“I can imagine.” Chuck swore he could feel the last of the Quickening settle in his bones as he let out another breath. “Where will you go after this?”

“One of my students’ students needs some polishing,” Matthew allowed. “Beyond that, I won’t say, but I’ll give you my email and cell number so we can stay in touch. You’re looking calmer now, by the way.”

“I feel like it,” Chuck admitted. “Damn, this is like when we were in Victoria Harbor and the old man and I climbed on top of Striker and fired flare guns at Leatherback.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “You two fired flare guns at a kaiju? Your idea?”

Chuck grinned for the first time since Matthew had entered the room. “No, that was my old man’s. He’s more impulsive than he lets on.”

“That explains a lot,” Matthew said. “You have any other questions for me?”

“None that I can think of, unless you have any suggestions.”

“Remember those sword drills I taught you? Spend some time today going through them, then go soak in the hot tub off the kwoon. You’ll feel more settled.”

Chuck nodded, and rose to his feet to do precisely that. “Thank you, Matthew.” He knew he was through the worst of his reactions; now came the living-with-it part, and that took time.


	37. Chapter 37

Chuck thought he and Raleigh were doing okay: they’d gotten through the anniversaries of the Breach closure and Knifehead with about as much grace and fuss as they’d had the previous year. Raleigh had sourly joked that since Knifehead had happened on February 29, 2020, it was the ‘invisible’ anniversary, which meant he’d been irritable and moody on both February 28 and March 1. Chuck took his mood in stride; his taste of knowing his pilot was about to die, courtesy of Stacker, was enough to make him ready to make whatever allowances Raleigh needed.

The new jaeger teams were busy, working through the PPDC’s new contracts. The focus for Chuck and Raleigh had now shifted towards improving the teams’ performances, which left them both with more free time since the teams – who all had taken a rotation through the jaegers – understood better what Chuck and Raleigh had been trying to teach. Curtis and Võ were proving to be adept at leading their group as well, reining in Shawn Reardon’s apparent propensity to act first and think second. 

It was now a week after the anniversary of Knifehead. Being that he didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn because the jaeger teams had the day off and he wasn’t needed anywhere, Chuck was sleeping in – or trying to anyway. He opened bleary eyes to find Raleigh, looking suspiciously innocent, naked, snuggled tight against him, and way too wide-awake and eager.

“Hi,” Raleigh greeted. 

Chuck stared at him. “Yes?”

“Can we have wake-up sex?”

“What if I don’t want to be up?” Chuck countered.

“Say yes and I’ll make it worth it, then you can go back to sleep,” Raleigh bargained. “I’ll even make sure no one wakes you until lunch.”

Chuck hesitated more for form’s sake than any real objection, aware that there was little he was inclined to deny Raleigh. “Okay,” he said after a moment’s consideration.

Raleigh flashed him a pleased grin before kissing him slowly. One of Raleigh’s hands snaked down the length of Chuck’s body to stroke him. Desire shot through Chuck at the touch, and he arched into Raleigh’s hand. Sure that he knew how this was going to end, Chuck went to reciprocate, but Raleigh batted his hand away.

“Let me do this,” Raleigh insisted, rolling on a condom on Chuck’s cock and then lubricating it. “I can wait.”

Chuck’s eyes widened and he woke up a little more, wondering what his lover was planning. “Raleigh?”

“Want you to take me,” Raleigh told him. “I’ve been practicing, like you said I needed to.”

“Oh jeezus,” Chuck groaned, realizing that explained why they’d been running low on lube lately. “Love –”

“Don’t tell me no, please,” Raleigh begged. “I’m ready for you. Woke up so horny, need to feel you.”

Chuck kissed him. “Then go slowly.”

Raleigh shot him a grateful look and returned the kiss. Chuck fell in love all over again with him as Raleigh mounted him, breathing carefully but looking both earnest and supremely turned on at the same time. “Breathe out, yeah, that’s it,” Chuck told him, holding onto his hips and trying desperately not to thrust up. 

Raleigh shuddered out a breath before easing himself down a little further. It was the slowest Chuck had ever gone, but it felt the most significant, and he knew he’d never forget this moment. Tenderly, they made love. Chuck wanted to make this last, but passion’s fire burned through them both, making that wish impossible.

After they’d taken time to clean up, Chuck cuddled Raleigh close. “Verdict?” he asked.

“Need more data,” Raleigh told him cheekily.

Chuck laughed. “Uh huh, I see.”

“Plus I want to know if it’s the same if you let me take you.”

Chuck stared at him. “Were you always a sex fiend and I made the mistake of assuming you weren’t because you weren’t gay before?”

“Yup,” Raleigh told him, grinning, and kissed him. “Besides. I like surprising you when you think I’m not ready for something.”

Chuck groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Raleigh shook his head. “Nah. You’re immortal; you’ll survive.” He kissed him. “Now go back to sleep, love. I’ll take Max so he won’t bother you.”

Chuck kissed Raleigh one more time before he let himself sink back to sleep. Life with Raleigh in it, he thought, wasn’t going to be boring, and Chuck appreciated it. He just hoped that whatever weirdness was going on between his father and Richie would get resolved quickly. Things hadn’t been right for weeks, and it wasn’t anything Chuck could put a finger on except that it had started sometime after the anniversary of the Breach closure.

* * *

Herc rolled over to find the left side of the bed empty, the sheets neatly made, and his heart sank. Dressing quickly, he made his way to Richie’s quarters, only to be stymied by the lack of immortal presence he felt. He finally found his lover in the conn-pod of Sentinel Falcon, tightening the right-side arm harness. The conn-pod was set in maintenance mode, which meant that the foot harnesses were locked in place, with their safety covers in place, giving the conn-pod floor more of a contiguous space.

At the feel of his presence, Richie glanced at him. “Something I can help you with, Marshal?”

“Yeah. You can tell me what the fuck I’ve done to piss you off.”

“Sorry, but I’m working now. Can we discuss this later?”

“Richie, don’t give me that bullshit. Nobody’s really working today.”

“Yeah, well, I am. Curtis said the harness was having problems shifting from his height to Shannon’s. Now if you’ll excuse me –”

Herc’s lips thinned. “No. Richie, please. You’ve been acting like I did something wrong for weeks now and I’ve woken up alone every morning this week. Is it something I did?”

Richie set aside the wrench he’d been using and stepped around the harnesses to stand directly in front of Herc. “You assumed I’d be okay moving in like you didn’t just break up with someone. You didn’t ask.”

“All right,” Herc conceded. “I didn’t think I had to. I’m sorry. I just figured after eleven years of waiting, you’d want that as much as I do.” He studied Richie. “That’s not it, though.” 

Richie looked away briefly. “You took to us like a drive suit you were strapping on,” he began. “How’s a guy to know you’re not just trying it on to see if you like it?”

Herc’s eyes widened. “Because you know me,” he said quietly. “You know if that’s the way I was going to treat you, I’d have been up front about it so you’d know what to expect.”

“Yeah? And what if I know you’re used to keeping your emotions tight to your chest, only letting it out in the Drift and maybe not even then?”

Herc stared at him, shocked. “Then I’d say you’ve still got a lot to learn about the guy who’s been falling in love with you, Richie. I miss waking up to you. I want to be with you; I want to plan how we move on from here, together, because I know the day’s coming when I can’t be the marshal of the PPDC anymore and you can’t be its jaeger crew chief. Please don’t shut me out; I hate that more than anything. You know the best way to drive a jaeger pilot crazy? Stay silent.”

Richie shuddered through a breath. “You’re talking about forever,” he managed.

“Yeah, and?”

“And I’ve been here too long, Herc, and I need to reinvent myself again.” Richie looked at him, anguish in his eyes. “I love you. I don’t want to leave you. I thought if I pulled away slowly, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“So quit it,” Herc ordered, and drew Richie into an embrace. “Tell you what: finish futzing around with that harness and then we’ll sit down and make a plan. Chuck’s never been to Paris; I assume you were headed there?”

Richie leaned in and kissed Herc. “Yes.”

“Then we’ll go as a family,” Herc said firmly. “Get your batteries recharged and see how my son deals with Nick’s wit.”

“Oh God, that’s not going to go well,” Richie predicted.

“Maybe not,” Herc allowed. “But you’re not alone anymore, Richie. I’m here, and whatever happens, we’ll face it together. If it means we’re apart a while, we’re apart awhile – but I can deal with physical separation as long as we keep communicating with each other. Got that?”

“Loud and clear, Herc.” He kissed him again, and Herc indulged him in a longer, more passionate kiss. “Did you ever have a fantasy about making out in a conn-pod?” he asked some minutes later.

Herc laughed. “Yeah, every jaeger pilot’s had that one, so no, we aren’t doing it here. My luck, my son’ll show up.”

“True,” Richie conceded. “He’s got bad timing that way.”

Herc shook his head, then sobered. “So will you stay with me every night until it’s time for you to go? I want you in my life, Richie; I always have.”

“Yes,” Richie said, and it felt like a vow.

Herc knew they had a lot to plan; Richie was right in that people were noticing that he looked the same as he had when he’d been on Lucky Seven’s crew, and that had to be dealt with before it became a problem. Herc was certain, though, that it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. For the first time in years, Herc knew he was grounded in love – and knew, too, that his son felt the same way. 

The End 11.28.14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading. Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome, no matter the age of the story. :-)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blood Will Tell](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110957) by [Raine_Wynd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd)




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